Ouroboros
by Kiana Caelum
Summary: Eight hundred years ago, Alisha made a fatal mistake that killed her soulmate. Now, she arrives in Ryars Valley to find him again - and find he knows nothing of her or their past...but someone else does.
1. Chapter One

Evening all! I would very much appreciate any thoughts you have!

Lyrics come from Aqua's 'Turn Back Time' (Album: Aquarium). I hope you enjoy...  
- Ki

**Ouroboros Part One**

_Give me time to reason  
Give me time to think it through  
Passing through the season  
Where I cheated you_

The dream began as it always did.

She had dreamed him for eight hundred years. She would probably dream him forever. And every night, she lost him again.

Every time it was still her fault.

Pain and love were equal and opposite, inseparable as she and he had not been. She rose through a hazy atmosphere, sensation clearing into sights, smells, feelings.

In her dreams, the summer was eternal, the frost never to come, the dead brought to life. He lingered, pale, trapped by her need and her memories. She was the only one now who remembered, and when she was gone, he would be truly dead. For now, she wished him immortal - and he lived.

X - X - X - X - X

It was a cold night, but Talisa didn't care about that. Not when he was there, keeping her warm. She could feel his chest move as he breathed, hear the soft thud of his heart. It did nothing to ease her guilt. She didn't know why she was so wild when he wasn't there, or why she went to David for solace when he was gone.

No. That was a lie, but Tali didn't want to whisper the truth, even within the confines of her own heart. She was afraid he might hear. No matter what she did, Tali never wanted to hurt him, only to protect him-

A flush coloured her pale cheeks. Protect him? Protect herself, from his anger, from his sorrow and most of all from his disappointment.

What had started as a flirtation had become an affair and now Talisa was hopelessly trapped, caught in her own web. She loved him so much. He was her soulmate, her destiny, the better part of her. By far the better part of her.

Strange how David held her enthralled; how he dragged her back to him time and time again. The affair had been going on for longer than Talisa could think of, an endless whirl of dances and long, pleasure filled nights. Roaming his mansion and being waited on hand and foot, it was as though she became the princess of her own fairytale.

She met elegant people who didn't look down on her like they would if they knew she was just Talisa Alfaso, a village girl whose father worked as a labourer for them. David had shown her the high side of life and it drew her. She became a different person then, one that enjoyed the luxurious life of an aristocrat. She was shining, splendid, jewel-draped with him.

David showed her a life that her soulmate never could.

Oh, yes, her soulmate loved her, loved her with a passion and intensity Talisa would never have dreamed lay under his solemn extrerior. He trusted her implicitly - mistakenly, she thought - and if he lacked David's charm or flamboyance, that did not diminish his feelings for her.

But David y Pelathas loved her too, in his own curious way. He might never say it, but he couldn't. Birth and class divided them.

Her two men orbited her like the sun and the moon, never meeting. David was warm and open; against him her soulmate was beautiful but mysterious, shrouded in secrecy.

But she dragged her thoughts back to the young man holding her, gently brushing his lips across hers at her involuntary shiver, an action that only served to change the shivers to a more pleasant kind.

"You seem distracted tonight, Tali." There was no infection on his soft voice, and she couldn't help but feel his tension, the subtle tightening of his arms. He was being so odd tonight, even quieter than usual, insisting they come up here - where they could be alone.

"I was just looking at the stars," she said dreamily. "They have so few cares.."

He laughed quietly, just a hint of surprise in his voice. "That's unusually philosophical of you, sweet."

Her lips curved up. "What?" she mocked him gently in her husky voice, "Can I not think occasionally?"

"Of course!" he murmured in her ear, the warmth of his breath sending delicious shivers down her spine, "but it isn't exactly your style." Before she could muster indignity, he continued in the same intimate manner. "Did you miss me, sweet?"

"Of course!" she said, mimicking him . "You know how I wish you were not absent so often."

If he were not gone so often, she would not need David, she could wrench herself free of him. David's love was like a blanket that had made her warm at first, but now began to smother and choke the life out of her.

He shrugged slightly. "They say that absence makes the heart go yonder." There was an odd hardening to his tone, but the Talisa of then missed it and carried on her idle prattle.

"No," she laughed, "you know that is not right!"

Yet she suppressed a shudder of uneasiness, relieved their minds were not linked tonight, for his words held a sharp ring of truth. Had she not gone yonder without a second thought, nor even a first to anyone else?

"Just seeing if you were listening. You seemed to be under the moon's spell." She shook her head in denial. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he murmured in quiet contemplation. Again, the tone was different, no trace of love or humour in his voice. It made him sound dangerous, not the man she knew. A stranger and one she feared.

Tali tried to diffuse the darkening atmosphere with her light chatter, her only defence then.

"Yes, that is true!" she agreed instantly. "And as you are so often gone from me, soon the world will not encompass my love."

He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, but my dear Talisa, they are right when they call you a witch!" he muttered, more to himself. "How you bewitched me."

"Please," she whispered, clinging to him, apprehension striking at her heart. "Why are you so strange tonight?"

He stood up then and shook her off. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder!" He parodied her high voice effortlessly, flinging back her words. She stood up slowly, sweeping her skirts about her and stared at him with eyes confused and forlorn. "Absence made Lord y Pelathas's bed warmer, I have no doubt of that!"

S he gasped and felt shock drain the blood from her face, her own body a traitor to her secret.

"So!" he said softly, the purring voice that of a predator. Their roles were reversed, he of the Nightworld and she the tremulous innocent. "It is true, sweet Talisa with your gentle words and lying eyes. My lady, my soulmate, my betrayer."

She reached after him, her fingers just brushing the rough cloth he wore before he was out of her grasp. Tali felt the situation begin to spin out of control and her head with it. How had he known? She had thought she had been so careful.

Goddess, help me! She prayed fervently, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to look at his taut face. Make it go away, put everything back to how it was before I met either of them. Great Mother, help me!

Her eyes flew open, nails digging into her palms. From somewhere, Tali found the strength to look at him. Regret overwhlemed her, but too late. Far too late.

He turned and strode away, tipping his face up to the stars.

_Please..._

She tried to call with her mind, but he would not hear her. As if seeing herself from a distance, Tali watched as the girl stumbled after him, unable to stop the tears that streamed helplessly down her face and detested herself all the more for it.

What a fool she had been to imagine that any of David's wealth could measure up to this; only now she had lost him did she understood the wonder of what she had. His mind was a lake sealed by ice, implacable.

"Wait!" she cried.

He looked at her and for an instant she could see the agony in his face. "Spare me you false tears!" he spat.

It was the first outright violence she had ever seen from him.

She held her shaking hands out to him and lurched forward a couple of steps, mute.

Slowly, he moved to face her. The force between them was greater than love and greater than loathing. Even he could not resist. His eyes were wide now, the pupils huge and turning his eyes pure black, distorting his face.

Talisa had never known she could hurt him.

"Whatever I did," she said huskily. "I did loving you. What I feel for David...it is nothing compared with you."

"Do you think that makes it any better?" he said in a peculiar voice, tight with barely leashed emotion.

"I love you!" she screamed as she saw how she was losing him, that he was drawing away from her.

"You cannot love me," he hissed. "Not when you make a fool out of me with the whole village, when you lie to me, day after day, despite what lies between us. Why, Tali, why?"

She heard the desperation in that plea. Talisa covered her face with her hands for a moment, then looked up, gathering the courage to speak.

"David showed me another world. They appreciated me there, I was beautiful, and I was admired. People liked Talisa, not just for what she could do, but for who she was."

"They liked you for your pretty face," he snapped.

"It doesn't matter if they did," she said dully. "I was someone else, someone I liked. Someone I...I could never be with you."

He seemed to take a huge shaking breath. Then he looked straight at her, his eyes lifeless as glass. "So be it."

She barely had time to register his meaning before he was striding past her, towards the sheer drop that lead only to the pounding surf and jagged rocks below.

"No!" she screamed, throwing herself after him with a swiftness born of despair.

But it was too late, of course. It always was. For an instant she saw his face outlined, dazed and starkly white in the moonlight.

He didn't stop.

She heard the eerie silence, and the crazy pounding of her heart. Then the sickening thud.

Her shriek split the air in two as she dropped to the cold ground on her knees. Then there was just the soft wind rustling the long red hair splayed over her fallen form, and the sound of the surf, every wave a breaking heart, a mirror of her own.

X - X - X - X - X

Alisha Althasson woke with a little gasp. Her face was quickly composed, if somewhat pale, but an observer might put that down to the bumping motion of the bus.

So long, she thought, and she had lost him every night for eight hundred years. She stared out of the window at the passing landscape, trying to calm herself.

The dream had been so strong, as if she were reliving it for the first time, not the thousandth.

This life was no different. Alisha shifted restlessly in her uncomfortable seat, her long legs scrunched up against her bag. No. That was not true. The madness had not been there this time.

Always she had lived ignorant of what she had done until her sixteenth birthday. And then, as soon as the sun inched above the horizon, the guilt and horror of Talisa Alfaso had hit her with the casual devastation of a cyclone, driving her insane. But not this time.

This time, she had been born knowing she had destroyed him; through her indifference a man had loved her and lost her and died. Her soulmate. And whereas she had been reborn, he never had.

It defined her until she seemed mere shadow to the solid, visceral form of her past.

No longer a witch, she had still found her way to the Nightworld. She looked little like Talisa, a slender girl with long brown hair and eyes as cool and hard as sapphire. Her face was no longer a mirror for emotions; rather a mask, careful, concealed. If Circle Daybreak had thought her odd, most were polite enough not to comment.

As an agent for them, she had found some small measure of atonement. But she had tired of soulmates, of other people's happiness.

She had asked Lord Thierry to send her away. There had been compassion in his dark eyes when he agreed. He'd asked no awkward questions and expected no answers. In truth, they both knew she would not come back.

Ryars Valley, he assured her, would be somewhere she could settle. It was a town full of people who needed somewhere to disappear in. Quiet, tightly controlled by its Elders, it would be nothing more than a token assignment. And if she changed her mind - well, Daybreak was there. She knew the number to call.

She doubted she would.

There was nothing to draw her back. Her few comforting memories now were of her family - Talisa's family - who had adored their youngest child and cushioned her from the harsh reality of life. They thought it was for the best, but it meant that she had been spoiled - easy to see in hindsight - and more arrogant than her status required.

Alisha drifted off into pleasant daydreams of her childhood, the only safe sanctuary left. Of her mother's stories in her rich Irish lilt and her father teaching her to play cards. That had been where most of the money had come from. Her father had been a professional gambler and when the men in the pub were drunk enough, they'd bet anything.

And when he was a young man, a fool had bet his daughter, a raven-haired beauty with sweet blue eyes, and a tongue sharp with magic. She had been a sorceress and bequeathed Talisa her gift for magic.

The dream turned sour as so many did, her mother's death-bed flashing at her, the raven hair streaked with grey, her lips grim and lined by pain. That famous milk-white skin had become sallow, broken by sores and pustules. What remained of her voice was spent in screams, and later whimpers; until death swept in and left her still and silent.

X - X - X - X - X

She woke up to hear the driver's bass growl. "Last stop, lady. You got a walk to town from here."

It felt good to stretch her legs. She thanked him as she stepped off, throwing him a tired smile. "Any idea where I could find some accomodation?"

"Follow the road. First left. That'll take you to town. You be careful now," he said, and the doors creaked shut. With a rumble and clatter, the bus pulled away, leaving her alone in her new home.

Alisha turned her attention to her surroundings..and stared. Deadbeat desert town, never. Not with those beautiful fields - places she would have hunted in another life, maybe. Streams lay over the hills in a shining lattice. At the centre of the valley, the town huddled, a collection of low slung buildings split by the grey tarmac, hot air shimmering above it.

The warm sun restored her dream-jarred nerves as she began to walk. The transition from the countryside to the town was gradual, but she began to see signs of life. A woman crossed the street with her child grasping her hand tightly. Even from this distance, Alisha saw the smooth movements of the woman and the quick silent steps of the child. Had she passed them by, Alisha knew she would see the hunting sheen in both their eyes. All the people she saw, bar the odd one or two, had that predatory grace about them.

The whole town was populated with Nightpeople. More than she had been expecting, despite what Thierry had said. She had thought he'd exaggerated. Wrong. Very wrong.

She stopped in the nearest shop where a black dahlia was bold on the door. The shopkeeper was a young man, who at first guess looked to be no more than twenty or so. She wasn't fooled. His eyes had a certain, alien quality that spoke of age. A vampire.

She asked about a place to stay, pretending to glance at the displays but noticing his cautious stare.

He shook his head dubiously. "I don't know offhand, but I know a nosy parker who will. Jo!" he yelled. A young woman came through.

"What is it, Sam?"

Sam grinned and flicked his handsome head at Alisha. "This 'un needs a place for the night and I couldn't think of anyone."

The woman looked Alisha up and down sharply and she wondered at the wary expression on her face. She seemed to be searching for something, and Alisha's eyes focused on the black dahlia design on Jo's clothes. Of course, the woman was looking for signs of the Nightworld.

"A dahlia, isn't it?" she said. "Merry meet."

Jo's eyebrows raised slightly as she noted Alisha's stare. "Well, girl," she said curtly. "You haven't anything on you that says what you are, but you aren't human. I think."

"I am, but...I've seen a lot."

The woman nodded sharply. "Old Soul, hmm? We don't see many of 'em here. Someone chasing you?"

"Only ghosts," she said bluntly.

"You aren't the first. No one will ask here. I'm Jo Taylor, formerly Jo Weald." The woman winked. "This here's m'husband, who used to be Sam Blackthorn. But between you and me, girl, anyone asks you 'bout us, we're human. Your name?"

The note of authority in the woman's voice was impossible to ignore, and her kindly features decided Alisha. This was a new life, a fresh start. Why not be herself for once, instead of assuming any one of a thousand alibis?

"Alisha," she said shyly, almost hesitant of telling someone her name. "Alisha Althasson."

Jo nodded approvingly and she had the feeling the woman knew she was telling the truth. "If you want anything, you come and talk to us. There's a place you can stay, a couple of roads up. Girl there moved out." Jo leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin on her face and Alisha found herself smile back, a weary tired effort, but a smile all the same. And it felt good - but Jo's next words destroyed that. "Found her soulmate, they say."

The sorrow stung her like nettles. Even here she could not entirely escape it.

"That will do fine," she said tightly. "Can you tell me how much?"

"No...the girl left the house with her friends. You 'd best ask them. Hmm." The woman narrowed her eyes, obviously calling up faces. "There's Cougar, but he's a chip off the Redfern block and got their chip on his shoulder, too. His soulmate hasn't done anything to improve his temper. Chatoya Irkil, she's a fair girl, witch of course. And there's that 'shifter boy.Jepar Jubatus. Chatoya and Jepar are your best bet."

Cougar Redfern. Her eyebrows lifted subtly. That was the name of one of her marks. And the Irkil witch. As well as the shapeshifter. Watch and report, she had been told, but she'd had the feeling Thierry wasn't too bothered whether she did or not. He'd described Ryars Valley as low-risk.

"Any idea where I'll find them?" she asked.

"They're all at the local high school, just down the road." Jo chuckled. "Ask for Circle Strange."

That was - different. Circle Strange? It sounded like a cult or a club. Come to think of it, hadn't she heard something.? Alisha tried to remember, but nothing came to light. "Oh well," she muttered and trudged down the streets, towards her new life.

_If only I could turn back time  
If only I had said what I still hide  
If I only I could turn back time  
I would stay..._

X - X - X - X - X

Thanks for reading :o) I'd adore hearing your thoughts.


	2. Chapter Two

Evening all, and sorry this has taken so long. Uni was somewhat busier than I thought, and add to that the hecticism (it's a word) of having left...you can imagine how busy things have been! Much love and lollipops to the wonders of you who commented :o) Huge thanks to:

**Adelaide E, Dream Wind, Tjones, Megami-Sama, Jangles,** and the brilliant **Panzerkitty**

Comments are always much adored, pored over, revered, cheered and sometimes feared. Lyrics from 'The Girl Who Falls Downstairs' by Tom McRae (Album: All Maps Welcome)

**Ouroboros Part Two**

_Needles buzz like  
Neon light and  
I am stained by  
This town  
And all my faith gone  
All maps welcome  
The stairs have twisted around_

She searched for Circle Strange, and found so much more.

The school was sunny, a two-storey building surrounded by a large campus. Trees and plants were scattered everywhere, all the windows were thrown open and inside Alisha saw students slumped over their desks, most looking bored, two of them having a not-so-subtle paper dart fight.

There were a few people sprawled on the grass outside, talking. None of them took more than a casual glance at her. Good. She didn't want to attract any attention.

She couldn't remember a time in the past years when she hadn't drifted through life, avoiding human contact where she could, avoiding the spidery crawl of emotions, of people reaching out to her. Attachment...it - yes, it terrified her. Who knew where it would lead?

To love, perhaps, and that was most dangerous of all. Whatever kind it was, be it platonic or romantic, she felt only a sad knowledge that she would hurt, and be hurt by it because the tragedy of love was that it was transitory, mere footprints on a beach to be erased and forgotten. It died as surely as everything did.

Shutting the world out was safer; it harmed no one when she left.

And she always left. There was nowhere that could hold the fragments of her heart. Even here, with its cryptic wild beauty - even here, she would leave and leave gladly to roam pointlessly as soon as this task was done, and these people were found. Circle Strange.

With a name like that, somebody had to know who they were. She'd been told about a Circle Doomfire who'd practiced here, and been the cause of a lot of fatalities for Daybreak until they disappeared, but no one had mentioned a Circle Strange.

She stopped the first person she saw, a wraith-like girl who was striding across campus as if wolves snarled at her heels.

"Yes?" the girl said, barely polite.

"I'm looking for..." Alisha hesitated. It sounded so...bizarre. "Circle Strange?" she said, not hopefully.

Something slid through the girl's expression. Fear? "You're looking for them? The freaks?" she blurted, before wincing as if she'd said something wrong. "I - didn't mean that, okay? If they're your friends-"

She was actually edging away.

Alisha realised she was standing open-mouthed, and hastily caught the girl's arm. "Wait! I don't know who they are, but I was told they might be able to help me out. Please - I just need to know where to find them."

The girl's shudder wasn't feigned. "Why'd you want to? Take my advice, okay, and don't have anything to do with them."

She stared at the girl, bemused. "How bad can they be?"

"Your choice." The girl slanted Alisha a peculiar look; obviously she felt she'd done her good deed for the day. "Fine. You see the group over by the trees? That's them. Have fun. And don't let the dark haired guy get near your neck."

She scurried away, and this time it seemed there was something worse than wolves nipping at her heels.

Somewhat taken aback, Alisha started in their direction. There was a trio there, all of them different and now she could see them better, Alisha realised they were a mix of humans and Nightpeople. Simply being near them sent strange quivers through her stomach.

They were powerful. Not all of them, but enough had that air about them. That aura.

It was a rare talent, the last remnants of her life as a witch. The ability to sense auras; she'd only met one other person who'd been able to do it, a Daybreak boy called Matt Wolff. But he was missing, and probably mould in a shallow grave if she was honest with herself.

Matt had only been able to see auras, but Alisha...she could feel them; emotions were textures and tastes, plush rainbow tapestries.

The dark haired one - who had lean features and a hungry look - was a vampire; gold rippled about him, the colour of a newly minted coin. A compelling combination of power and personality, but it seemed to her there was almost a shadow about him, greasy smears that edged the gold.

Someone shouted at them and all turned to look at the boy who was grinning and waving. Her mind catalogued the scene with the quick efficiency that came from running away young, that had kept her safe as she could be out in the big wide world.

A boy - blond, one of those lanky types born for sport, loping up to the group and dragging a girl by the hand. Her floaty clothes flapped as she half-ran, stumbling to keep up, her black hair a tumble. As he joined them, the blond boy turned to gaze down at them, revealing his face.

And her heart near stopped.

Oh, Goddess, it was him. Exactly as he had been back then, with a sunny smile and the tilted green eyes that made her think of endless summer days, the gold hair soft as a cat's fur, the clean cool curve of his cheekbones that wisps of his hair just ghosted over. Her soulmate.

Alisha struggled to keep her body still, not to hurl herself into his arms and tell him how she loved him.

But that was ridiculous. She couldn't let emotions rule her anymore. Emotions had destroyed her, emotions were a danger to her. To them.

But it was him, every hammer-slam of her heart on her ribs confirmed it.

Logic, Alisha told herself with a pretence of calm. For a start, he might not be the one. Just some boy with green eyes whose face in a certain light-

Yes, _daylight_.

Who was she kidding? It was him all right and she knew it, it was knitted into her bones, the truth of him, here, now, alive.

One touch. That was all it would take. One little gesture.

But she couldn't do it. She couldn't willingly walk in and wreck his life, walk in and expose herself to all that hurt. For an instant, she was Tali again, frightened but never again innocent. What if he hated her for what had happened?

For killing him.

And without warning, every tear she had willed herself not to shed, every dream she had told herself would never be true, every hope she had thrust away harshly, every scrap and shred and shard of grief burst free of the cage she kept them in, and Alisha was frozen, her tongue stilled and her soul screaming.

For every death, for all the broken wishes and each missed kiss. Every wasted life. For every family she had left behind who must have loved her - had she made them feel like this?

But, oh, it was worth all the pain just to know he was alive. That he wasn't gone.

Not hers anymore, but perhaps that was for the best.

Alisha stared at him, savouring every moment. And was something faintly different this time. Then he moved to talk to the serene girl who was elbowing the vampire guy.

It was in the way he walked: the fluid strides and how his muscles shifted. And the faint, emerald shimmer of his aura.

He wasn't human anymore.

Alisha was too stunned to even move, lost in a surge of memories that threatened to reduce her to mindless panic. His laugh broke that, a carefree sound that wandered out into the air.

She had never heard him laugh that way before. Without bitterness, without sorrow, with irony.

How he had changed. Without her, he had gained something far rarer than love. Happiness.

I can't take that away, she thought, eating him up with her eyes. All I can do is hurt him.

She had forgotten what the Nightpeople were like, how perceptive they were, and was shocked when he stopped laughing to stare at her, open curiosity written on features as familiar as her own.

And - even worse - now his friends followed that direct gaze and her frightened eyes saw only hostility and ghosts in those faces. They were a frozen tableau; the plain witch girl sitting half-upright with one hand supporting her, looking perplexed.

Sprawled against a tree, the dark vampire whose face was so arrogant, and opposite him, cross legged, a slender girl with freckled features. That frosty glare shouldn't have come from the girl with the cherry-red hair and the open, fresh face.

All of them framed him, standing there in a wary stance, his hair gleaming in the light, _there_.

She couldn't drag her eyes away, nor wanted to. It was a lightning bolt in her world; it was like being healed and being destroyed in the same instant. She was caught between hope, and gut-wrenching fear but most of all that love that was near as terrible as the fear.

She wanted to scream it to the heavens, he was alive.

What she did was to drop her gaze to the grass in front of her, breaking the deadlock. But they knew something was up.

She didn't need to look up to know one of them - the dark one, the vampire - was coming. She could sense his presence; he was shadows and black blood, heat and cold at the same time. A bundle of contradictions, this one. He blazed like a star streaking through the heavens, falling or flying and not entirely sure which.

She hesitated for a moment, as a nasty feeling of familiarity crept over her. Not the kind that meant soulmate, but the kind that meant past life. She would bet anything that this vampire was an Old Soul and that she had met him. Known him well. Once.

Alisha disliked him without knowing him and she didn't want to know him either. He was dangerous; emotion ruled him entirely, and she knew how lethal that was.

How she knew.

X - X - X - X - X

"Oh goddess," Chatoya Irkil muttered wearily to Ruby Luthman. "Cougar's gone to spook that poor girl. Why can't he just leave be?"

She knew the answer though; her lamia friend hated the speculation and gossip that flew around about their circle, and enjoyed baiting the morbidly curious. Today, he was in a particularly foul mood.

Ruby shrugged. A vampire herself, Cougar had made her, and she seemed to understand him, however little she liked him for it. "You know him. He hates people staring at him - he's still not used to being different, he never really grew out of that enormous sense of entitlement - and I think the Circle Strange business is really starting to annoy him." Ruby glanced around and lowered her voice. "Plus, things are going very badly with him and Ria."

They studiously avoided looking at Ria Lutinne.

"That's no reason to take it out on her. She's just some human who heard the rumours."

Ruby grinned. "They aren't rumours, Toya. You are a witch, even if you keep your nude dancing for special occasions, and Cougar does bite."

She turned her attention to the human girl Cougar was about to rant at. This was one of those days when anyone looking at him the wrong way was going to feel the knife edge of his temper.

The girl was watching Cougar in a way that made the witch nervous. But that was ridiculous. Cougar could take care of himself.

X - X - X - X - X

Alisha looked up as he...her mind sensed his casually as a snake flicking its tongue to taste the air - _darkonefury_ - came near. She was still frantically trying to think where they had met - maybe she could use it to her advantage in some way. But no face came to mind. Or rather, a thousand did.

_Well, be calm. This is an easy situation - he doesn't want to kill you, just scare you. Handle it right, let him think he has, and he'll just go away._

"Hey," she said in a perfectly controlled voice. Polite. Not inviting, not hostile.

Darkonefury's mouth curved like a guillotine, a cold smile that gleamed with a hint of fang. "Heard the rumours, have you?" he said.

"Rumours?" She put a tiny bit of doubt into her voice, but made the mistake of looking up.

Bright eyes met hers, so light a hazel as to be gold. Angry eyes. Darkonefury didn't like her and made no secret of it. He crouched down so he was barely a foot away, and that close, the sense of him was overwhelming, tart as lime on her tongue.

"See, I don't like rumour," he said as if she hadn't even spoken. "I don't like people all that much and I'm tired of all the insults and cheap shots I have to put up with. And I don't like being stared at by some human who doesn't have the sense or manners to hide her thoughts."

"Excuse me?"

"In fact," Darkonefury said, "you leave me and you leave my friends alone or..." His face was an inch or two away now, the imperious glare boring into her, "Something nasty might just happen."

"You already did," she said, spacing out the words to put all the snap on them she could, not leaning back an inch. And then it clicked.

Black hair. Gold eyes. And a chip on his shoulder - gods, he didn't have a chip on his shoulder so much as a whole potato farm. He was one of the ones she'd been sent to look for.

"Cougar Redfern," she added softly, hardly aware she'd said it aloud.

His face froze, but not before she'd seen the fear there. She'd surprised him.

"Scrap the 'might'," he breathed, his eyes dawning brighter and brighter until she wanted to look away from the rage there. "It will happen." The words tumbled from him, and some part of her knew he was running scared but the other part was too busy being afraid herself, afraid she might well not survive this. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish your mother had drowned you, you'll wish you'd never come here, you'll wish you'd slit your pretty little wrists-"

Memory exploded into her head and suddenly Alisha wasn't even aware of him, only the horrible raging anger mingled with the fear, enough to trigger the tsunami of recollections. The years sloughed off like a snake skin, leaving the words ringing in her ears.

_Slit your pretty little wrists._

X - X - X - X - X

After he had died, it had been a time of confusion, of...yes, of insanity. She had been ripped apart, any wish to live now utterly quenched by what had happened and she lived a half-life, lived truly in her memory of that last night.

Why hadn't she stopped him, how could she have done that, he was gone, he was gone and her heart was a jagged fistful of glass, she was a shell, a husk, a ghost.

She wanted to die. That was all, but no one ever left her alone and that was what she wanted most of all. To be able to think, to grieve without worrying what anyone else thought. She knew what they whispered about her in the village, that her tears were false, that maybe she had pushed him off that cliff herself...and they were right.

She had killed him surely as the fall.

And she only waited for an opportunity, for a way out. And eventually...one came.

Gwyn had gone searching for her at nightfall. Gwyn, her friend and his sister. She was too painful to be around, with exactly the same fierce look painted in softer, more feminine lines.

She knew what Tali was like at the moment; not herself. Gwyn hurt for her brother, the favourite of her three brothers but he was gone.

And then there were three.

It seemed she was doomed to lose a sibling every year. First it had been Venna, caught in a bandit's raid when she went riding. Then Fran and Issalf, taken by winter fever. And now her little brother, hurling away his own life in a moment of haste, a stupid and petulant action in her opinion, but then he had never been one to think. Heads over heels for Tali and she never really aware of his feelings. It was a pity.

Gwyn sighed, and pulled her tattered cloak a little tighter. Tali was mad walking in this.

But Tali was just plain crazy, grief-mad, Papa said. And this was not healthy grief. There seemed no end to it, no cessation, no release. Tali shoved the world away, and held her brother's memory in her arms every night. At first, people had been patient, but now, their sympathy was fading and in a way, Gwyn understood. Ieran would not have wanted Tali to waste away.

Thpugh she was just as sure her brother would not have wanted her to marry again. Ieran had been fiercely jealous of Tali, protective as a nesting hawk - and yet never dared show it to her. Gwyn had heard him raging, and tried to soothe his fears, but Tali had only seen his composure and his steadfast silence.

Two fools, if fools she had loved.

Gwyn had gone to see his body. She couldn't really connect it with her little brother for there was no personality there. Nothing of his secret and rare grin, his soft-spoken stories late at night, the way he slung his nephews up on his shoulders and played games with them. Nothing of his smouldering anger, the slam of his fist hitting the wall while he anguished over his love, his spat words.

He had always been sweet, if quiet, until Tali. More subtle than Gwyn, who knew people thought her overbearing and overwhelming. Everyone had adored him, even when he would wander off for a couple of days to leave her mother panicking and her older brothers laying bets on when he'd get back. So sad, she thought, that love should have made him so stern.

And when she saw the remains, she just thought; that's not my brother. That's just his body. He's somewhere else...and I hope he's a damn sight happier than Tali made him.

Gwyn had known about Tali's liaison with David y Pelathas from the start, and known it was a bad idea because Tali was naïve and so naïve she didn't even know it.

But she knew too that only Tali could stop it, only Tali could learn from it.

And how harsh the lesson she had been taught. It unnerved Gwyn a little, the way Tali would look right through her.

The girl had seen his body and that was what had done it really. For Gwyn, it had been a curiosity. But the effect it would have had on Tali...it had sent her over the edge. And Gwyn had to follow to make sure her friend didn't do anything more stupid than usual before those fools had left her alone. She had glimpsed the pale figure in the rain on her way to confession, and decided confession could wait.

Ah! Gwyn squinted at the slender shape in the distance. White gown, fluttering as though it was made of cobwebs - her betrothal dress, Gwyn remembered - lank hair in rat tails. It had to be Tali - yes, it was, Tali waving that hunting knife that Papa had been missing.

Oh dear.

"Tali?" The girl didn't answer and it struck a chord of fear. "Tali?"

"Gwyn." A dreary statement, showing no surprise at her presence or even a flicker of interest. It was as though Tali expected her, or she made no difference. "Shouldn't you be at confession?" she said uncaringly. "Or are you my confessor?"

Gwyn looked at her. Tali was no different...no, that was not true. Her outward appearance was as flawless as it had always been, but her skin held an almost feverish glow, while the long curling strands of hair fell down her back in a tumbled disarray of fire and earth colours, tangled and matted.

And her grey eyes were lost, haunted so horribly.

"You have nothing to confess," she said sharply, worried and wanting to comfort, but not knowing how to reach across the chasm of time and space that stood between them. Poor, poor Tali - she was in some place that Gwyn would never reach, nor would ever want to.

Tali laughed without humour. "You're wrong. So wrong, Gwyn."

"Tali," Gwyn said in a perfectly level voice, "get away from there."

She was walking slowly, no, drifting in that tangled gown that she obviously hadn't changed out of since it happened, towards the cliff top, to the very same place.

Tali spun back with a speed Gwyn wouldn't have suspected under the broken exterior and mocked her with eyes that were clouded and empty.

She thinks we blame her, Gwyn said to herself. That's wrong. We hurt, and we miss him. But his feet took him there. She thinks it's all her fault and therefore everyone must think that too and, oh, what a mess.

"Come back," she said with all the gentleness she could muster. She did genuinely like Tali, she was like a sister but Gwyn had always found Tali a little uncontrolled. All passion and no thought.

She was relieved when Tali glided forward, a ghost with huge eyes and a beauty that had been ravaged. But her words stopped Gwyn short.

"Too late," Tali whispered. She smiled once, and lifted the knife high.

It caught in the moonlight and patterns glinted onto her face, changing, spinning, gleaming as the knife fell.

Until they were gone.

X - X - X - X - X

And it was as if that knife suddenly hit her again, that hollow empty pain, and here was this Darkonefury threatening - threatening her. Her hand balled into a fist. Fire searing like anger or was it the other way around?

"-and you'll wish you were in hell by the time I'm done," he hissed and Alisha's volatile temper hit boiling point at a rate of knots.

Her fist lashed out and hit him with all her considerable strength, and a speed gleaned from lives past, then she shot to her feet and glared at the vampire.

"Leave me alone," she said clearly, and strode away.

X - X - X - X - X

"I don't believe it!" Cougar Redfern said in disgust, holding his jaw. "She hit me." He sounded aghast and Chatoya agreed with him. A human hitting a vampire, especially Cougar, who was pretty formidable, with a vampire's strength and reflexes. She had to have been fast.

"About time," Ruby said with her usual bluntness.

"Excuse me?" Cougar Redfern's pride was legendary and it had just taken a considerable knock. Ruby had decided to kick him while he was down. "I was...oh hell, she spooked me. But she didn't have to hit me!"

Ruby nearly choked in disbelief. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she cried. "Did the big scawy girl scare the ickle vulnerable wampire?"

"It's wulnerable, if you're going to be like that," snapped Cougar, recovering himself quickly. "She knew my name. She knew who I was."

"Wake up and smell the valium," an exasperated Ruby continued, hands flashing in wide, descriptive gestures as Chatoya touched a gentle hand to Cougar's jaw to take the sting away. "This is the town where everyone knows your name!"

Chatoya rolled her eyes as the tirade continued. It would have been nice to get through one day without yet another argument.

Jepar caught her eye and gestured for her to follow him.

Chatoya followed the shapeshifter, wincing at the unrepentant sound of Cougar tripping up Ruby and the shrieks that followed. "Where are we going?" she said, raising her voice slightly.

Jepar indicated the figure of the human girl who was moving away from them without a glance back. "She scared our resident Redfern who is, let's face it, pretty unshockable. I'm curious."

"Yeah, well it killed the cat."

He just gave her a wink, and that trademark flashing smile that was genuine as it was bright. "You can only hope, Toya."

"She socks you in the jaw, I will have no sympathy," Chatoya retorted, struggling to keep up with the cheetah 'shifter's long strides. He was walking fast, normal pace for him but half-running for everyone else.

Jepar's voice was concerned. "She shouldn't have been able to do that. Even when Cougar's being a moron-"

"Which he has down to a fine, fine art."

"-he's fast enough to stop people hurting him."

He was right. So what was he saying? That the girl wasn't human, when she obviously was, because she didn't have the hunter's walk. Even a witch would be hard pushed to surprise a vampire, as she knew from bitter experience.

"I want to know," Jepar said with a grin. "Just who our mystery girl is."

And it would have taken a less curious pair to resist.

_And I see myself  
Turn into something else  
Turn into someone else  
For a while  
And I know I'm right  
Running into this night  
Running another dream to the ground_

X - X - X - X - X

Thanks for reading! Comments would be loved, loved, loved...


	3. Chapter Three

Aloha all :o) Well, as it goes, this is apretty good updating roll I'm on! Yay Christmas holidays, which are a wonderful thing but not as wonderful as these people - thanks and hugs and oodles of festive spirit to:

**Jangles, Dragon Fire, Zabella, Dolphin, Megami-Sama, **and the superlative **Sweetie Pie**

As you may have guessed, comments are much adored - I love hearing what you think, criticism is welcomed with open heart and mind! Lyrics from Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance' (The Fame Monster).

**Ouroboros Part Three  
**

_I want your ugly, I want your disease  
I want your everything as long as it's free  
I want your love_

She ran away again, as she had so many times before.

It was a sour lump in her throat, an itch in her palms that was very different from the sting where her knuckles had met the vampire's eye. Running - Alisha didn't like to think that she was a coward, but she was running away. From her past. From her actions.

Damn the girl she had been.

Alisha walked fast, feeling her muscles twinge in protest and glad of the distraction. She shouldn't have lost her temper like that, but she didn't regret that she had. No longer would she let people bully or intimidate her. That was something Talisa would have done, someone Alisha refused to be now.

Almost before she knew it, her flight had taken her into a shaded area further from the campus, a small grove of trees that grew on the grounds. It was quieter here, the light chopped and shattered by the leaves into flitting kaleidoscope shards, a multitude of tiny blades.

Moonlight off a knife, she thought and winced.

This had to stop. She didn't want to relive that memory again; once was enough. How many times had she said the past was past?

And yet even now she moulded her present about it. Alisha knew that, she knew the way she held herself aloof from the world meant she would never have anything but the memories, knew she fought every day to keep from simply snuggling into that soft, ancient grief like an old blanket. It would have been so easy to surrender. Once, she would have - once, she had.

Now she fought. She had denied despair, and filled her days if not with people, with travel. Always roaming, pretending it was for any one of a thousand reasons, but in this aching instant, she understood it had been for one simple reason.

For hope of him.

It had always seemed as if everyone else in the world was only half-alive. Everywhere she looked, even centuries on, she saw all in terms of him. She didn't see people with blue eyes; she saw people with blue eyes that were not green, and heard voices without his subtle nuances, and saw people that were not, never he.

And here he was.

Here he was, and here she had to hug her secret close to her heart, a heart slowly reforming, the fractured slivers snapping together jigsaw-like with that single thought: he was alive. And he could never know.

He could never know what they were, because of what they had been. If she dared tell him...oh gods, what would that knowledge do to him?

If he knew, the suffering would begin again. Alisha could not see how anyone could forgive her for what she had done.

"You should be careful out here."

She started, hurled out of those troubled thoughts. She expected to see a student-

Oh god.

A ghost, surely.

She'd seen him so often in the madness, in visions and nightmares. And in that old, mistaken lifetime that seemed to her now like a bullet-riddled body, a thing of ruin and wretchedness. But here?

He met her gaze coldly, with eyes that were grey granite, and cool as ever. They had flared with warmth for her once, long ago yet now they were detached, and surveying her with all his old intensity. His hair was dark brown and cut close to his head, but his face was unchanged.

Her lover. Her betrayal. Her sin.

"David," she said, half-dazed.

But he was dead. David was no Old Soul, he was human and mortal.

Was she mad again? She thought not...but then, how would she know?

His smile, familiar and warm. "You were never insane, little one," he said, half to himself. It was a gentle comment, sheathed in steel. But he seemed to recall something and the smile dimmed. "Not at first."

Alisha hadn't realised she had voiced that thought aloud. "Then you're real?"

The curve of his mouth so terribly amused, and his voice had that aristocratic edge of scorn. "As real as I ever was. And yet...more."

"More?"

"Look closely, Talisa," he urged.

Alisha scanned him carefully, her hands twisting in a slight nervous motion. The glitter in his eyes had nothing to do with the twisting lights here. His lazy, easy confidence was new and over his aura lay a green-tinged pearly glow, the gleam of cats' eyes in the night - the glow of the hunter.

"You..." Surely not? Yet...it must be. Baffled, disbelieving, she dared move forward to lay her hand against his cheek. It was not warm at all, but marble-cool to the touch as though the long years of life had frozen him from the inside out. "You're immortal?"

"Beyond that," he confirmed. "I'm a dragon."

A dragon? But...oh god, they were monsters! How could he have become one? She had thought they were born, not made-

He took advantage of her shock to tug her into him, tipping her chin up. "A lovely face, my dear, an improvement on the old one. Grey eyes always made you so dreary, whereas blue makes you even more beguiling, Tali."

She stepped back and felt the chill of fear when for an instant, he didn't release her, showing her his strength. He was real, no doubt about that. And of the Nightworld. David y Pelathas had survived the ages but it had hardened him; his mouth was more cruel than she remembered and his voice harsher.

"I'm not Tali," she said, holding herself straight, looking into that ageless face. "My name is Alisha now."

A light shrug. "Change the name, change the face - a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." A deep breath, as if he were inhaling her and she glimpsed something - a rich craving - in his expression that worried her. "And how sweet you still are."

"What do you want, David?" asked Alisha, unable to keep the grimness from her voice.

"Isn't it obvious, Tali?" His every gesture said it should be.

"It's Alisha."

His mouth tightened. "Lie to yourself if you wish. But we both know you haven't changed. You never will." He sounded so damn convinced. "What do I want? You."

She had known, hadn't she? The answer came not as a splintered shock but a dull leaden ball. She had been afraid of this all along.

"We have some unfinished business."

"David," she said firmly. "Whatever 'business' we had finished eight hundred years ago."

He shook his head. "No, Tal-Alisha. Our 'business'" he copied her inflection with a disdainful sneer, "was never really started."

She couldn't contain her choked laugh. The idiot! "Never started? We had an affair, David. For two years. If we hadn't even started, what the hell were you planning on? Not marriage, that was for sure, we both know that."

Bitterness made her voice sharper than she wanted. He dared come and say that to her when she knew full well that his mistress was the only status he could or would ever have granted her. Talisa had accepted it; Alisha would never have.

David smirked. "All I had to do, little one, was wait until that bigoted father of mine tottered into his grave. Whoever writes the law controls the law. And that would have been me."

She was stunned - could he have been that naive? David had always seemed so worldly, yet it seemed that even Talisa had known more than he. You could not wed above your station. Time had slid by in an avalanche of sand, and now class mattered nothing but then it was as much a part of life as the seasons.

"But you would not wait." His voice had dropped, sombre now. "And so...I decided to give you time, after I became...what I am. Eight hundred years, Tali! God, loving you and knowing you were out of my hands for centuries!" Anguish made his voice husky, his eyes gentle cobwebs. "And you tell me everything is different?"

"How did you know I was alive?" Alisha asked, fascinated despite herself.

"There are...ways," he said slowly. "I have always done my best to keep an eye on you. Spells, and watchers that knew enough to find you. I've followed you through more than this life." And then his face folded into a frown. "I didn't expect what I saw. When you woke up each time, I knew that you were aware." He shuddered and the dismay on his features reminded her. "And I had to stand by and watch. Tali...I..."

She knew what he meant. They were both silent, both remembering.

X - X - X - X - X

She hadn't been Tali then, but Tara. Not that the name mattered a whit; she'd never known any other, never thought there had been anything other than this life. Nothing different about this night, except that it was her birthday, but that still meant working, and chores, and listening to her father's drunken shouts.

But there were good moments too. Like this one, ruffling her little brother's hair, and chuckling as he squealed, mock-biting her. She just smiled all the more and pulled him close for a hug. Jack was a little monster, but sometimes, times like this when Da wasn't dead drunk and Ma was inside baking and even humming a little song, he lost that beat-up look.

Oh, he was an adorable kid, all messy black hair and muddy hands and huge gold eyes that were the image of her mother's but when Da'd had a bad day...well, Jack was the nearest to hit. The only boy in the family, and silly enough to shout back sometimes, or complain when Da was floating on a whiskey cloud.

It was starting to change him, in ways Tara didn't like much. He would retreat into himself after the violence now, no longer coming and hiding his head in her arms, no tears, and no fear. Just the sullen glitter of his eyes in the shadows.

And sometimes...there was something cold in his face, an adult anger that no eight-year old should have. Times when she thought Jack was going to erupt in the injustice Da did, calling him useless and no good, when he knew Jack went out every day to sweep chimneys and Lord knew that was a dangerous job. Tara knew five or six families who had lost their sons to the long drop, and a dozen more with lads that had run away to London.

She always promised herself she'd go too. One day. When Ma was well enough again to manage without her.

But now, Jack was happy because Da hadn't touched him, just gone to the tavern with his friends, men as loud and quick to strike as he was. Tara was only praying he'd stay with them a little longer. Else she would be left alone with Da and Tara remembered what it had been like before Jack was born. The shouting, her Ma crying and the hard slam of Da's fist catching her across the face even if he didn't put all his strength behind it.

Tara's fifteen years had been no great joy, but she considered herself blessed. The last bout of disease had not touched them, and Da got paid double for all the work he did while the others were off coughing in their beds.

"Tali," he said in a muffled voice, his head bent over the ground. There was a queer note in his voice. Tali was his name for her, a sort of slurring of Tara and Lifrass and everyone had picked it up.

"What is it?"

He scuffed his bare foot along the ground. "I want to talk to you."

Tara pulled him around gently, and stared into the sharp eyes. Jake was trying not to meet her gaze, washing his fingers in his hands uneasily. "About...?"

"Your birthday."

"Oh!" She was relieved. He had sounded so serious then. So...strange.

He burrowed into her arms, getting mud on her clothes, but that would wash off. Just long as Ma didn't notice and go into one of her moaning moods. "Mama said..." he hesitated, near unsure, which was unlike Jake, then he put his mouth close to her ear and whispered furtively. "Said I weren't to tell."

"Then don't, Jake," she said in half-amusement, half-concern.

Jake sniffed. He was almost crying she realised with a start, in tears for the first time in a year. "I don't want you to die!" he burst out.

She laughed. "Whatever do you mean?"

He looked up at her, the mud on his face divided by two clean tracks where tears had trailed. "Mama says no girl from Da's line ever lived past sixteen." He seemed embarrassed at his weeping now. "I don't wanna be left with Da."

"What? I've never heard anything like that."

Her brother's gaze was direct, he believed what he was saying. It made her hands tighten. "Ma says it's a legend. Ever since...Ma said seven hundred year ago-"

"Years," she corrected.

Jake nodded. "Something bad happened to a girl. And always after, every girl goes...in, in," He gave up. "Crazy on their sixteenth birthday. Tali?"

"I won't go mad, sweetie," she reassured him gently. "I've no urge to end up in Bedlam with the screechers and the scratchers."

Jake scowled at her intently. "Promise?"

Tara grinned at him and even shook him a little to emphasise her point. "On my life."

Dangerous words, she would know in times to come. Then? Just a casual promise, a ward against another piece of superstition.

She slept sound that night. And then she woke.

Tara felt different from the instant the morning air touched her. It sent goosebumps rippling over her skin, and her stomach roiled like a storm swirled inside it. She opened her eyes slowly, frowning. Over the cracked stone ceiling...a sky with stars. And a voice.

"Tali..." It was a moan that drained to nothing. Her eyes glanced around nervously but everyone was asleep. Imagination, she told herself. She turned onto her side and tried to get comfortable on the floor.

Then the cold came. Biting, screaming winds that chapped her skin, that tore at her like a whirligig of blades. She never even realised she was upright, half-crouched, arms clasped about herself. It hurt, it hurt.

"Taaaaali." Whirling around and around in the darkness, twisting her body, trying to see where it was coming from. Still the unseen wind froze her bones. The voice became soft, venomous. "My lady..."

Above her the roof dissipated into endless stars. She gasped and huddled into the ground. "My soulmate."

She saw the bodies around her fade into rocks, leaving her unutterably alone.

The floor faded into cold rock, the moon growing in her vision like a madman's blinded eye.

"My betrayer."

The words were hissed in a horrible rotting voice. A sound from the grave. She blinked, and she was on a cliff top. She blinked again and shrieked as a knife slashed down to her wrists.

"Taaaali." Open sky, pain and sorrow so deep her body writhed. If she'd been able to give voice, she would have been screaming loud enough to drown out the monstrous voice.

"My betrayer, my betrayer, mybetrayermybetrayer.."

She saw the icy knife again, felt its cut and in that moment, she remembered-

And she was lost.

X - X - X - X - X

Her cries woke her family, and they opened horrified eyes onto her lacerated face, her eyes huge and wild as she begged him to leave her alone. Her hair tangled in knots, hands little more than claws as they called her name. Her back arched in spasms; she was slavering, howling and shuddering like some sort of animal.

Jake watched as Da caught her hands and hit her over and over in the face, cracking her head against the floor until she slumped unconscious. Ma was crying about her girl, her beautiful girl. And Jake, he looked at Tali's still body, her pale filthy skin: her broken promise, his broken sister.

The next days were bad. Jake curled into a corner and watched her. Soon as she woke, it started again, horrible screams tearing through the air and Tali getting up, ripping at the walls until her skin cracked and bled, until they came, the doctors came and looked at her. Looked, and murmured mad, and did nothing.

Jake knew he had to stop it, stop his sister being another attraction in Bedlam. He remembered how she'd always looked after him when Da beat him, how even in the worst times she could always say something to make him smile.

The last evening before they took her, after Da had punched her out, he knew what he had to do.

They were all asleep when Jake carefully crept over to Da and groped around for his knife. He was crying silently as he knelt by his big sister, her face tortured even in sleep.

When they came for her in the morning, there was only a corpse.

X - X - X - X - X

Alisha shuddered violently and whirled away from David. "Stop it!" she gasped. He dropped his gaze, and she knew that it was him. He had used those powers to catch her, to force the memories onto her. She shivered again and leapt away from him as he stepped towards her.

"Stop what?" One eyebrow raised coolly. "Trying to show you the truth?"

"Truth?" she managed. "What truth?"

She was caught in his arms, a butterfly in a spider's web. "This," he breathed. "You need me, Tali. Accept it. You and me. Us."

A picture appeared in her head, a tall boy who wasn't David. At once he pushed her away violently, revulsion pulling at his mouth.

"But all the time you think of him!"

"David..." she sighed, filled with a careful pity for David, who was unable to see that the past was done with, never to be repeated. He had not learned her hard slow lesson. "Whatever you feel, I honestly don't think it's real. It can't be, because one-sided love isn't love. It's just a shadow of it, just a dream."

He was furious now, a dull burning fury in his aura like smouldering embers that roused warnings in her. "Not real? Haven't you listened to me? To one word of what I have said?"

"Oh, words," she said wearily, in heartache for someone else as he circled her with ever watchful eyes. He had changed so much. No longer did David remind her of warmth, of comfort and ardour, but of a fire that was burning too high, that would leap out to burn anyone he could.

Showing her feelings, her awful tiredness, her sorrow only encouraged him, and that meant she would have to be cruel. She didn't want to be, but she didn't want David. She wanted...

Alisha wanted the impossible. She could settle for nothing less.

"Come on, David, you and I learned long ago that words can mean anything."

He looked a little hurt, his attention all on her now. His aura flared in an ocean of dark pungent reds shot through with lurid green, urgent and yet...expectant.

"What do you mean?" A lost inflection in those words.

Could it be that although David had lived these years he had remained unchanged? Surely not.

"I don't understand," he continued. "Tali, beloved..."

I'm not Tali anymore, I'm not your beloved, she wanted to cry. Talisa was a part of her, but only a part of her memories. Yet to David, she was his beloved. He saw her as the same person - he saw only what he wished to.

That could be used to her advantage, if she played along.

She took a deep breath and chose her words with care. Unusual for one who never really cared for anyone, who merely whiled the time away. "You told me you loved me."

"I spoke true."

She lifted her shoulders, unaware that they were being watched. "Perhaps."

"I did love you, Tali. I still do." His words were earnest, as though she had to accept them.

Again, she shrugged. "And still we just play with words, David. Please - listen." Alisha had no idea her words seemed a thinly veiled order, or that David found himself obeying with some surprise. "You told me I was part of you. I was yours."

David spread his hands. "You were, Tali. I won't deny it."

Alisha's words were hard, cutting in and cutting deep. "I was another of your possessions. You loved me because I was a sop to your ego. I simpered over you." Embarrassingly so, she recalled. "I flattered you, I adored you completely without question. But I didn't love you. Love isn't so shallow."

"You're wrong," he hissed back, his voice serpentine and livid "I wanted the best for you. Only you. I tried to help you, Talisa, I did. I even told your thick-headed betrothed just what had been happening."

She froze. A lie. God, surely...

He smiled at her, but Alisha could barely see him through the massive numbing disbelief. "And it worked, didn't it? We were rid of him." He was laughing now, delighted. "It killed him, Talisa."

The shock hit her like a physical blow.

"He died for you."

_I want your love and I want your revenge  
You and me could write a bad romance  
I want your love and all your lover's revenge  
You and me could write a bad romance_

X - X - X - X - X

Thanks for reading :o) Comments would be loved, loved, loved!


	4. Chapter Four

Aloha all! Apologies for this taking so long; work has been completely bonkers lately, and thanks to Sharmeen for reminding me about this :) Adoration and chocolate hugs to all the lovely people of you who commented last time round; thanks to:

**Belle:** Odd that this story's kind of sad, but it's one of the ones I was happiest writing :) Maybe I'm just warped. It's fun to rewrite - I've changed a l-hot of this chapter. Thanks everso!

**Megami-sama**: Well, they could have happy lives but it would be kind of boring to write :) Yes, I will explain (eventually, it's always eventually with me).it's not for another couple of chapters though, I think. Glad you're enjoying! I hope al's well with you. Cheers!

**Eloquent Screamer**: It's more of a rewrite than a new one :) But it has been pretty heavily revamped in this chapter. I always get annoyed with old stories and then have to rewrite :) I'm psyched you're liking, thanks muchly!

**Sharmeen**: I haven't given up on it :) But as it's a rewrite, actual stories tend to come first (yeah, I know, I ain't the faster updater in the world when it comes to them, either!) If you get confused email me about what, and I'll try to clarify ;) Merci beaucoup!

As you probably can tell, comments are utterly adored, pored over, delighted in, revered, cheered and generally worshipped. I'd love to hear what you think; criticism is welcomed with open arms. Lyrics from _Hide and Seek_ by the delightful Imogen Heap (Album: Speak for Yourself)

Much love, Ki

**Ouroboros Part Four**

_Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth  
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs  
Speak no feeling - no, I don't believe you  
You don't care a bit,  
You don't care a bit_

He died for you. It rolled about her mind, bouncing through her.

The world had stopped on its axis.

No, she had stopped; she was frozen through with the shock that had hit her surely as if she had been flung into an arctic lake, pulled under by the weight of David y Pelathas's words that were so light, and incisive, and worst of all, joyful.

He had told Ieran. Dear god, he had told her soulmate about their affair.

And like the click of a key in a lock, the scream of a door long unopened, light falling into darkness long-hidden, Alisha saw. She saw, and now it brought fresh raw pain to blast past the numbness.

Oh Ieran...oh, my love, you had to watch so much betrayal and so much horror when you travelled, you never imagined it would be nestled at your own heart like a viper.

And he told you, yes, I can see it. It must have seemed the only way for David, when he felt he was losing me - he felt his beautiful, rare possession slipping away from him. He was an infatuation for me, a child's fantasy - the handsome prince in his kingdom, come to sweep me from my feet, taking me from the ivory tower I thought I was trapped in. But to him...that world was real. He lived in that ivory tower every day, and never thought to climb down.

Ivory of Ieran's skin in moonlight, the shocking, devastated green of his eyes when he had walked from her that last night and walked to his own death.

The fool - all of us, fools.

If there had been one certainty in Ieran's life, it had been his love for her. Simple, and mute. Looking back, Alisha glimpsed it in his understated words and the tight embraces; in the intensity of his eyes that had scared her then, and that she longed for now. And David had known it.

He had used it.

"No," she said, her voice low and flat but slowly, rage growing inside her. "For me? He died for you, David."

"I did it for you," he answered easily, and the clean white gleam of his teeth showed. "You were mine."

"I'm not yours to own - I never was, even if I didn't know it. You had no right to manipulate me David, no right at all. You're petty, you always were - and you haven't changed in eight hundred years. You aren't worthy of me, or anyone else."

Something in his stance changed indefinably - a little tautening of those sinewy arms, a narrowing of the stone-grey eyes, and it sent a tingle of apprehension through her. David was predictable. But that didn't make him any less dangerous, maybe even the opposite.

No. She could no longer be intimidated by him. If she gave in, she would be stuck in that endless whirling dance, caught in the prison of David's arms - made his creature, his toy, his whore. Such steps would not stop until she danced to her own death.

David's voice was a near-purr, malice sleek in it. "How easily you set me up as the villain in this piece, Tali. Shall I kick off my shoes and flaunt my cloven feet, and let the world burn?"

With that last, she heard the roar of fire and inhaled the acrid scent of smoke. Sh coughed, squinting through eyes stinging and teary. He had somehow set alight the leaves underfoot. Alisha had to jump to avoid the small blaze, closer to his set, shuttered face.

"Shall I twirl my trident," he continued, and before she could move away, the orange heap ripped across the ground to encircle her. Fire swayed towards her as if the flames were courting lovers. "And fling you screaming to hell?"

"I'm already there," she said bleakly, huddled in the midst of the smouldering loop.

Hell lives in my heart, where he once was. Hell is reaching out in the night to empty spaces and cool air, speaking the words that will never be heard, and longing for the warmth of a body long cold.

Maybe that touched him, this familiar stranger, who flicked his fingers to smother the blaze. "Enough of your evasions, Tali. I'm no devil, and you're no angel. We're just people." The first hints of scorn flitted over the proud face. "Or was I truly so terrible, when I adored you, when I loved you - when I would have sold my very soul for you?"

How carefully he chose his words now, how vigilantly he kept his trembling fists at his sides. Yet his eyes remained wrathful, waiting, and Alisha knew he could still read her feelings as he had been able to so long ago.

"No," she replied softly, seeing his anger fade a little. "Once...you were a good man. I think once, you wanted the ideal. You wanted people to be good and true, you wanted to be just and fair...but you wanted me more. You wanted me more than any of that, and it changed you."

"You changed, not me," he answered, almost gently.

"No. You were kindness itself to those who needed no help. Your charity extended to the rich, and your ides of justice was to treat everyone with equal contempt. You had so many qualities that could have been called virtues, David, and all of them came to less than what I feel for you now."

"Now?" Poised, there was a hunger to his face. Alisha knew he held control only thinly, but she had to show him - she had to hammer home this truth however it would hurt and enrage him.

"Nothing-"

The world was wrenched sideways in a crunch of pain - he had hit her, god, he had hit her. Coppery blood flooded her mouth, filled her senses. She had been stupid enough to assume he was unchanged, but she was wrong. David would never have hit Talisa...

But she was not Tali.

And eight hundred years had carven change on him.

It was there in the stony menace of his face, and his raised fist, ready to strike her again. He was a shadow above her, a shadow whose eyes glowed silver as a blade. Emptiness filled his face except for those inhuman and livid eyes that held nothing of love but too much - oh, too much - of old anguish and new hatred.

She had hurt him.

"Nothing," he hissed down at her. "I will not have thrown away my life on nothing! I will make you see, Tali, even if it must hurt you. The lesson may be hard, beloved, but I promise, the reward will be sweet, it will be sweet when you understand..."

He drew back his fist, and Alisha cowered, drawing up her arms around herself. Oh god, he would do it, he would really hurt her until she gave in and broke under his rage, as she had beneath his admiration.

Please, no...

"Don't!" a voice said in genuine horror. "Please."

And his head snapped up, the secrecy and intimacy of the moment shattered. Surely he would not dare hurt her now, where eyes watched. Tentative, Alisha turned-

It was the witch girl, looking aghast at David. And he was beside her, green eyes flashing in fury, only restrained by the witch's slender arm.

"There's no please about it," her soulmate said with a sliver of ice edging every word. "Back off."

David's teeth showed in a slow, almost polite smile, but Alisha had seen the surprise on his face. "So this is why you came here, beloved," he said quite casually. "Methought the lady did protest too much."

Her throat was full of blood, swallowing down the words she needed so desperately to say.

"David..." she managed.

"Another time, Talisa." He stooped, and brushed his fingers over her cheek - and yanked her hair in a childish gesture that brought tears to her eyes. "Another time."

Her fear was roaring up.

His eyes were half-shut, and near dreamy. He was beautiful then, lost in his pipe dreams of how the world would be. It terrified her more than anything else he had done.

"I will make an end of this."

He left, but his words stayed with her.

For long moments, she just sat, her head reeling. Then she felt arms hauling her up, support she leaned into gratefully. Tiredness swept her, and if only she could lay down her head and sleep this mess away, she would.

Fog cleared into sunlight as she rubbed her eyes and looked into the face she knew better than her own.

Alisha started, and nearly leapt away from him, leaving the boy - her soulmate -with raised eyebrows and amusement sparkling around his mouth. Studiously avoiding his gaze, she told herself that he could not be allowed to know. Never again.

I will love you silently and safely. You will never love me - you'll never know - but you will never hate me either.

"Are you okay?" a girl's voice asked anxiously. Its owner was the witch whose moss-green eyes held concern and open curiosity. "If you don't mind the dumb question."

Alisha dredged up a smile she didn't feel. "I...don't know."

There was a pause, as the girl and boy looked at one another. Alisha knew the signs; they were talking telepathically. Emotions flickered over both faces, until the girl lifted her chin in a way that seemed to say she had won, from the sigh he - god, truly him- heaved.

"I'm Chatoya Irkil," the girl said, and held out one slender hand. Bangles chimed delicately on it, each twisted with beautiful craftsmanship into the stem of a flower. A tiny black flower formed the clasp of each - a dahlia.

Alisha looked up from the jewellery to the steady gaze. There was nothing else to indicate what the tall girl was; nothing except the aura that swayed about her like the ripple of grass under the breeze, the same growing green as her eyes.

"Merry meet," she answered, and Chatoya nodded, as though it was what she had expected.

"You know then," he said, casting a repentant grin at the witch.

Chatoya poked him. "Say it."

He groaned, and the sound was silky as a purr. It sent her skin tingling, and snared her breath at the base of her throat. "Fine. You were right, I was wrong. I prostrate myself before you and hereby acknowledge you as a supreme cosmic being and general smart-ass."

"A tad exaggerated..." Her soulmate rolled his eyes at the witch, and it struck Alisha as odd. Ieran would never have shown that kind of exasperation. But then...Ieran would never have laughed in the relaxed way this boy did. "But you got the gist."

"So, now Toya has humiliated me," the boy said without sounding the least bit embarrassed, "she'll ask what she meant to - can she heal you?"

"I do have a tongue, you know," the witch retorted. "Ignore him...Tali, is it?"

"Alisha," she corrected. Tali...was gone. Tali had been destroyed with Ieran, fallen as surely as he had. "Just Alisha."

"Anyway, ignore Jepar – he's a shapeshifter, and he's a cat at that. Which means he always thinks he's right, but if you give him some string to play with, he's happy for the rest of the afternoon."

"Ooh, flatter me do," muttered Jepar and as he turned those too-familiar emerald eyes to her, Alisha dropped her gaze. Perplexity crept into his voice, but Alisha told herself he would think her shy or distant. Best he should think that. "Toya, are you ever going to heal her, or are you just going to insult me all day?"

Chatoya put a finger under her chin. There was a smile tugging at her mouth, and despite the thumping in her head, Alisha had to hide her own smile. There was an ease between the pair she envied – envied, god, she wanted him with a ferocity that scared her a little.

"Tempting though it is, I can insult you any day of the week."

"Every day, more like," the shapeshifter threw back lightly. "Let's get out of the public eye then. We don't need any more rumours about your astounding satanic powers."

"I take it you've heard some of them, from the way you were looking at us earlier," said the witch, as the two led her from the wooded area out towards the edge of the campus, behind a smattering of buildings. There was no one here, in the cool shade, and the murmur of the school seemed far off.

"Not a word," Alisha said quickly. "Well – not a word that I believed. I'm looking for a place to stay and I was told to ask Circle Strange..."

"That's us all right," Jepar confirmed, arms hooked loosely around one knee. "We're about as strange as they come. Did you know I'm the leader of an extensive nationwide cult?"

Shocked, she glanced up and met his eyes before she realised he was joking. She met his eyes! Panic hit her-

And she realised with a shock that there were no sparks, no intense power…dimly, yes, she could sense the link like a whisper of a whisper in her mind, but it was barely perceptible.

In a way, she was relieved, in another disappointed. Be relieved, Alisha told herself. That could have been a disaster. You could have had his blood wet on your hands again.

He'll never know this way. Maybe...maybe we can be friends without him remembering. Just don't touch him.

"Unfortunately, it's a load of codswallop." There was laughter in that gorgeously satirical voice, with its faint hint of a British accent. "My naked harem is, alas, utterly non-existent."

"But we'll be fair with you." Chatoya's hands were the cool nip of mint on her bruised skin, soothing away the pain. "We're not...safe people. We get into trouble."

"No," put in Jepar. "Cougar gets into trouble and we rescue him."

"We're happy for you to have the house," continued the witch, ignoring him. "But you have to understand how people will see it. You'll be branded as part of us, even if you never speak to us again. They'll be wary."

"They'll be cruel, Toya." There was a drop of anger darkening his face. "Don't gild the lily. Sorry, Alisha, but that's how it is. We've earned ourselves a reputation. Just not a very good one."

"It's been...rough at times." Chatoya bit her lip. "Jepar's right. People are cruel."

"We've had windows broken, poison pen letters, our cars keyed..." The cat's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Worse. We've all been pounded before, and sometimes for things we haven't even done. Trouble just follows us, Alisha. And to be fair, we don't exactly fight it off sometimes."

"So that's it, you see." The witch was fiddling with her bracelet, and a faint flush garnished her cheeks. "Take the house, and be a pariah, or have a chance at making it here."

"You seem to have done all right to me," she commented. Walk away from him? "And you seem all right too. I'll take the house and whatever comes with it."

Both of them smiled then, and she realised that they had been waiting for her to refuse.

"One condition." Jepar held up a finger and raised his eyebrows into that golden hair.

"What?"

Jepar leaned forward, his hand almost touching hers-

Alisha snapped back, pretending not to notice the bewilderment in his eyes.

"Nothing too bad. Just come out with us and our friends this that's okay with you? After all - you're stuck with us now."

In the time it took to breathe, Alisha dared to touch his mind lightly, enough to sense emerald hurt shot through with smouldering silvery bemusement. It was a foolish, reflexive gesture.

And in that same moment, she felt the link a ripping bond so strong her senses gave up for a heart-stopping second-

She hurled her mind away. Jepar shook his head slightly, but other than that, he didn't seem to notice anything.

Idiot. Centuries, and you haven't changed at all. He could have discovered it, he could have found out what he is to you! Why not just fling yourself at David's feet and beg him to walk on you? One's as mindless as the other.

"My pleasure," she said softly, avoiding eyes that were too curious.

X - X - X - X - X

Circle Strange - and both terms were entirely accurate.

Chatoya had taken her to the house, and then stayed with her, making the careful small talk of strangers. As the evening fell, they walked out to the mountainside and hiked up a plateau where a group of people were chatting loudly. On one side the desert glowed and on the other, the verdant fields of the valley.

Heads lifted as they arrived, and most significant of all was the fetching, astonished face of the vampire she had punched.

"Hell," said the dry voice of a boy with violet eyes bright as summer petals, "and I thought we were going to be short for entertainment tonight. Cougar, prepare to scream like a girl - she's come back to batter you."

The vampire's look could have soured cream, though the speaker only gave a lazy, relaxed smile and yawned.

"Excuse me?" The sassy, sharp tones belonged to the girl she had seen earlier, with the shocking scarlet hair and a pout that twisted lips every bit as red. This one was carved from red and white, and her aura was a twitching terracotta miasma, clinging tight to her body. "What's wrong with screaming like a girl, Cern Akafren?"

The boy who had to be Cern held up his hands. "Nothing, if you're a girl. In fact, under certain circumstances I'm all in favour of making women scream."

"All it takes is one look," the red-haired girl said unpleasantly. Both seemed to have disregarded Alisha totally.

"Meet Ruby," Chatoya murmured to her. The witch calmly seated them both close to the picnic basket crammed with unhealthy and delicious food. Unfortunately, this meant being close to the stroppy vampire boy. "Tongue of steel. Cougar - that's the guy you hit - introduced her to our wicked world, and she's despised him ever since. She has a terrible penchant for Jepar though, so she has to see the rest of us from time to time."

Alisha felt her heart lurch - he had someone else, oh god, someone else.

"Yep, at my body," retorted Cern, and winked at Alisha. He wasn't ever going to stop traffic, but there was something charming about his grin. "But I'll skip hearing you scream, Ruby. Until next time I need to scare the bats out of the attic, anyway, then I'll ask you over."

"Down guys," instructed another girl with a fond pat of Cern's knee. "We're having a ceasefire tonight, remember?"

"Why's Toya brought Calamity Jane, then?" Ruby asked in a loud, carrying voice.

Chatoya smiled sweetly, handing Alisha a doughnut. "Because she's living in Zara's house, and I thought Cougar might be able to restrain himself from making stupid threats this time round."

"You're in Zara's place?" Ruby's stare could have puts nails in a coffin. "You poor sap. Toya, JJ, I can't believe you're so desperate for rent that you didn't tell her what that means."

"We did tell her," retorted Jepar through a mouthful of crisps. "She took it anyway."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, hon," was the mild advice of the dark-skinned girl next to Cern.

"Is that what Ben Skykes said to you on Sunday?" put in Cern, slyly elbowing the girl. She stuck out her tongue in response, and he only grinned, pulling one of the dozens of braids her black hair was wound into. "We all know you two were up to no good. And his eyes were definitely glazed when you came back in."

"Cern and Lisa," murmured Chatoya mildly, rifling through the food. "He's mostly a witch, she's a made vampire, and they've gone through the town like laxatives through a model."

Alisha giggled, despite herself. The pair were engaged in a full-on wrestling match now, and Lisa, who wasn't exactly built along the 'fragile waif' lines that graced magazine covers, looked to be winning by a sneaky elbow-lock.

"If you want advice, go to Lisa," the witch continued wryly, wincing as Cern nearly cracked his head open on a jagged rock. "She's a child of the sixties, and she's seen a lot."

"If you want a screw," said Cougar sulkily from where he was obviously eavesdropping, "go to Cern. He has low standards." No bruise on his jaw - vampires healed like lightning, but obviously there was still one on his pride.

Chatoya gave him a withering look. "Get over it. If you're going to be obnoxious at people, you shouldn't be surprised if they hit you."

Cougar scowled at Alisha. The golden eyes were smouldering, vicious. "She was staring at me."

"You're cute," said Alisha.

That silenced him. Cougar mouthed furiously, and she was charmed to see a flush spread over his pale skin. "I...uh...you..."

"You shut him up." Ruby had an unpleasant smile on her face. "Alisha, whoever you are, I like you."

"Did you really take the house voluntarily?" asked Cougar. Without the angry glare, there was almost vulnerability to his face, someone easier to hurt than seemed right. "Really? Or did Jepar threaten to strip?"

"Nothing wrong with stripping," protested Jepar with an amused grin. "Toya never complained."

"I used to date him," Chatoya explained, with a sigh, and Alisha found herself fighting a flare of unexpected jealousy. He wasn't hers, he couldn't ever be hers. It was crazy to be upset with Toya for something that was over, that was none of her damn business. "We're a bit incestuous here."

"Why did you break up?" she asked, wanting and not wanting to know the answer.

The witch shrugged. "It fizzled out. We're more like family - he's my annoying little brother who steals all my DVDs."

"I'm glad you didn't say I was like your little sister who steals all your clothes and make-up," her soulmate said cheerfully. Alisha felt her breath catch every time he looked her way. Afraid he would see, afraid he would break her soul open like an egg and spill out her hopes onto the ground.

"Nah, that's Cougar."

The lamia looked up, outraged. "What? Oh, so I borrowed your moisturiser once for my sunburn-"

"You know..." Chatoya overrode him ruthlessly, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "I bet you'd look really cute in mascara."

Cougar gaped. "Stop that thought right there. It's so incredibly wrong-"

"That's not the only thing that's wrong," a new voice said. There was a smooth quality about it that suggested danger and absolute mercilessness and it stopped all the conversations.

David y Pelathas sauntered forward, hands hooked into his pockets. With his tousled hair, and careless grin, he looked like the Artful Dodger stepping off dusty streets. Out of time. Out of reach. It was as though he had appeared from thin air.

Oh no.

"You? Again?" Jepar said in disbelief, his tilted eyes glowing firework- green. "Don't you give up?"

Alisha groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Who the hell's he?" Ruby Luthman's voice was angry as she stood up to face David, small fists curled by her sides. Tongue of steel, Alisha remembered. "He's not attractive enough to walk in on our private party. And why is he gate-crashing?"

"Tali?" David said politely, turning attentive eyes to her. Devil. Bastard.

She thought she saw Jepar frown out of the corner of her eye, but it was gone in an instant. Alisha felt uneasiness grow in her stomach. "Go away," she said through gritted teeth.

He laughed, his voice shattering the tense silence. "No."

"David," she said, her voice somewhere between a plea and a snarl. "Please...just leave me alone."

An eyebrow arched disdainfully. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

Not particularly, she thought, but I'll bet you're going to tell me anyway. But he was ignoring her now and turning an amused face to the others, smiling at them. A beautiful charade, a beautiful lie.

"Did Alisha forget to tell you that she's working with Circle Daybreak?"

Heads snapped round to stare at her rapidly. Every trace of relaxation was gone; she saw tight faces and heard the catch of breaths; the sharp, near-painful barbs of fear leapt in the tapestry of auras around her. Every last one - afraid, and all the angrier for it. Eyes that had been friendly became hard.

No...god no... Her skin felt clammy, the coolness sweeping into her stomach and making it roll.

"And," David continued, a smirk playing across his lips, "isn't it interesting that she's managed to wheedle lunch with all three of her targets? Chatoya Irkil. A lovely young witch, I believe. A Cougar Redfern. Vampire, obviously, exiled from his clan. And Jepar Jubatus. Disappeared from his clan for..." and David paused, glaring at the shapeshifter with obvious menace, ".reasons 'unknown'."

She glanced over at Jepar, his face defiant and infuriated. The words she wanted - the words that would erase the last few moments, make it somehow all right - eluded her. Then a voice spoke up.

"What's your point, exactly?" Lisa Ochai stood up. There was no fear in her eyes, only a threat in the easy way she moved to face David. Contempt curled her mouth. "Do you think we care? The past is past. Do you think you can just walk in here and sling this crap at us?"

David merely grinned. Undoubtedly this was all very amusing to him. "I felt it was information you should have, my dear. Call me a concerned onlooker."

"How about we call you some other things?" suggested Cougar mock-sweetly. Slow baring of fangs, the clean colour of milk. "And, here's an idea - how about you sod off before we kick you back to town?"

David didn't seem at all affected by it. "Temper, temper. I am not the villain in this piece."

"You're not the hero either," said Lisa coolly. But the gaze she turned on Alisha was just as unforgiving. "And you...I don't understand you...you lied. You wanted our friendship so you could report everything back to Daybreak. It was stupid of us to think you gave a damn. We should have known better."

"We know how to deal with spies," Cougar said in a low voice. He looked at Alisha and his eyes were gold as the sun, eclipsed by his pupils.

David y Pelathas looked at him, and there was no interest in his face or his voice as he said softly, "You lay one hand on her and I'll kill you."

Alisha stared at him and realised as his eyes met hers, so secretive and tranquil, just what he was doing. He still felt something for her. Something powerful and corrupt and something that made him threaten her - but only him. And he was being very careful, very clever about this.

Alienating her from the only people she had talked to, carefully outcasting her so she had him alone to turn to. It wasn't love, it was more than that. And it was disturbing as hell.

"Just who are you?" Ruby demanded. "Are you a friend of hers?"

"You could say that, yes."

Then his eyes returned to Alisha. "But that isn't why I came," he said and laughed at the disbelief on her face. "Oh, come on, Tali, we both knew this was inevitable. They were going to find out one day. It just happened to be today."

She had forgotten about everything Thierry had told her, hadn't even been intending to carry out his instructions and she felt sure the Night Lord had known that when he sent her here, giving her the names of people who had been missing for at least half a decade.

"Is that why you're here, David?" she said, hardly able to control the anger in her voice. Her mind scanned his with the lightest of touches. His thoughts were shot through with the black of triumph, the crocus yellow of contentment. "To tell tales?"

For one terrifying moment, he glanced at Jepar, and she thought - no, god, no, he'll hurt him, he'll kill him. I can't lose him again, not when I've only just found him-

"I have no interest in stories," David said scornfully. "My interest is in you. I found your actions...upsetting, Tali. Most upsetting." They both knew he wasn't talking about deceiving the circle, but about Jepar. He truly thought she had come here searching for her soulmate. "I was wounded."

He sighed, and looked almost forlorn. And then those hard grey eyes met hers, and she realised he wasn't at all hurt. Only angry, angry and petulant as he had always been.

"I'm afraid I made a rather - brash decision."

"Did you now," she said levelly, fighting to keep the knot of dread in her stomach small and tight.

He examined his fingernails. "I did. You see...I wanted to hurt you, Tali. As your betrayal hurt me."

It was like a slap in her face. I never betrayed you, she wanted to say. You betrayed me. You sent my soulmate to his death.

"So you see," he continued, "there are some - men of means on their way. They won't kill you, Tali. Just - just hurt you. They're very skilled like that."

"And you call yourself a friend?" The contemptuous voice was Jepar's, and the two of them faced each other. Her soulmate, and her guilty secret of ages gone. How different they were, how afraid she was.

"No friend of yours." David's smile was sweet as an angel's. "And did you know your house is on fire? I'm afraid I spilled some petrol all over the porch and then, goodness me, in my clumsy haste, a match just fell out of my fingers."

"You don't have a bloody clue where I live," snapped Jepar flatly. "Go back to the asylum."

"No? Isn't it thirteen Angel Drive? Did I read your mind wrongly?"

The shapeshifter gawped, colour spilling across his cheeks. In that horror, in that shock, Alisha saw Ieran as if she was centuries in the past, as if he had flung her infidelity at her again.

"JJ..." The uncertain words were Chatoya's, and she was throwing the picnic back into the basket. "There's smoke over town - our way."

"It is your place." Cern was on a cellphone, eyes aghast. "Ria's there, and she says it's going up like nothing she's ever seen. And..it's burning _black._"

"If you run," David suggested sweetly, "you might be able to salvage some of it. Perhaps. Or you can stay here and help a spy fight some rather irritable assassins. Your choice."

No choice, yet to Alisha's surprise, Jepar and Chatoya both threw desperate looks her way. Lisa and Cern were already gone, the vampire girl bounding down the steep slopes as if gravity didn't have a hold on her.

"Don't waste time on her!" snapped Ruby indignantly with a flick of her cherry-red hair, grabbing Jepar's hand and practically yanking him down the mountain. "Your house - your photos, your things..."

And then, it seemed, she was alone. Left to face him, her haunting, stepping from nowhere to tear apart her life.

"Why are you doing this?" she said desperately. "He doesn't know, he won't ever know. But I won't choose you either, David. I don't want you and I can't have him. Please, leave me alone. I promise you, I won't go near him - I'll leave!"

He lifted one shoulder. It was an old and too familiar gesture. "Forgive me if I find your promises worthless, Talisa. You broke every one you ever made to me." His voice was dry, but nothing could hide the bitterness sharpening it.

"I never made any!" she cried.

There had been words, spoken in passion, pillow talk, meaningless. Surely he hadn't been so blind as to take them for more than heated, thoughtless words. Surely...

But looking at his face, she knew that he had.

"You have a choice, Tali," he said very gently. "Choose me. Or choose him, and watch him die. Both of you will suffer until you see sense. I'm sorry, Tali...but that is how it will be. That's all it can be."

She stared at him. Obsession burned in his eyes like hell's fire, kept alight and unholy in all the long years. Maybe it was all that had kept him alive.

A casual glance, thrown over his shoulders. Following his eyes, she saw the small shapes of men moving towards them. His assassins. Her 'lesson'.

"Just say it, Tali, and I'll call them off," he offered.

"Go to hell," she said through gritted teeth. He was mad. He was insane. He was really going to let this happen to her.

His face hardened, his eyes cooling like lava under ice. "Your prerogative, I believe. Don't think I'll have any pity for you. I won't save you, Tali. Not at first. I'll leave it, until they've had a little fun. You'll be begging me to help you, and by the gods, I'm going to make you beg."

He wiggled his fingers. It was nearly cute, and it made her stomach churn. "Have fun."

And she was left alone, to stare down at those advancing forms, and wait. Oh god. Left alone, again. How simply David had done it. How easy it had been for him to hurt her.

"I'd like a word, if you can spare me a moment from your impending doom."

The voice was cold, positively glacial and she recognised it at once.

Maybe not alone.

_Mmmm, what'cha say,  
That you only meant well?  
Well, of course you did  
Mmmm what'cha say,  
That it's all for the best?  
Of course it is..._

X - X - X - X - X

Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear what you think :)


	5. Chapter Five

Long time no, rewrite. Something a little lighter and more fun now... The story starts to take some fairly sharp departures from the original from here on.

Thank you to the lovely people who commented last time around; thank you **Zabella, K'Ranna, Irishmoonrose, Adelaide E, Shiegra, Skysha-Tranqui, angel **and the ever-fabulous **Shang Leopard.**

Lyrics come from One Republic's _Apologise_. (Thank you for the correction oo - _is_ it too late to apologise...?)

**Dedication: **For Shang Leopard, for nudging me about this one.

Ouroboros Part Five

_I take another chance  
__Take a fall, take a shot for you  
__And I need you like a heart needs a beat  
__But it's nothing new_

Alisha waited on the mountain-top, staring down at the men who were coming towards her. And as if she didn't have enough problems, the vampire she had hit really rather hard wanted a word.

Wonderful.

They eyed each other warily, like a pair of cats with their fur bristling. "What do you want?" she demanded.

Hands hooked in his pockets, he shrugged, and flashed her a sardonic smile. "You're an interesting one."

Interesting. Her former lover was hiring thugs to kill her, she was unmasked as the spy and the traitor she was not, and all this temperamental vampire had to offer was a superb understatement.

"Too interesting for me," she replied sourly.

He ignored her, studying her intently as she did him. Even for a lamia, he stood out; against his pale face, his black hair was stark, and there was an odd sweetness to his mouth that Alisha might have called vulnerability in someone else. Nothing vulnerable in those eyes, though, silky gold and the most striking features in a face that would have made Rodin's fingers itch.

Yet for all nature had given him, it was an arctic beauty, chilly and fierce.

"Very interesting." He tapped the place she had hit him, already healed to a milky colour. "You have faster reflexes than a vampire. You're a Daybreak agent. There's some guy – and I'm not sure what he is, but he makes my fangs tingle, and not in the way Pamela Anderson does – who wants you hurt, but wants to kick anyone who hurts you. You seem like trouble, and trouble's my forte."

She laughed shrilly. "You think? Look – I'm sorry, but I don't really have time to talk."

Down below, the men were too far away for her to make out their faces but she could feel their minds, sleek and sharp as needles, jabbing delicately on her senses but moving closer, slowly, casually.

"There's always time," the vampire admonished, the bite on his voice telling her that not many people tried to dismiss him. "He's sent amateurs after you. If they had any sense, they'd be hurrying, not stopping to smell the daisies."

"Get a lot of people trying to kill you, do you?" she snapped, the last traces of panic draining away and Daybreak's training beginning to kick in. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease out the tension there, preparing herself to try and survive; nothing more.

"You'd be amazed. Please – I need to ask you something. It's been niggling at me all day."

"Unless you want to ask me if you can please help beat up the scary, scary men, I'm probably not interested."

"How do you know Jepar?"

Oh...

She froze, and knew that hesitation meant she couldn't just lie flat out. But how did he know? What would it mean? "What makes you think I know him?"

"Quite aside from the fact you stare at him like you're drowning and he's air, and you don't like him to touch you? Well...when you smacked me one, I got a full-on blast of your thoughts, and JJ was there. With a very bad haircut."

She put on her best blank look, and hoped it hid the welter of emotions thrashing under her skin.

"Which," he continued, "says to me either Jepar has an evil twin with even worse dress sense than he currently has – or you're both Old Souls, and he's your soulmate."

The truth hung in the air, blunt and brazen. How could she deny it? It would have been denying the scars on her heart, and the longing of her empty nights.

"Yes," she said finally. "He's mine."

Cougar let out his breath in a long whistle. "There's something else too. I…uh…have the feeling you're a little too familiar."

"What do you mean?"

"You aren't the only Old Soul here."

"But…you're a vampire."

"Really?" he said brightly. "Here was me thinking these amazing powers meant Superman finally had an heir. Turns out us bloodsuckers can experience the joys of reincarnation too. And…um…"

She tilted her head, squinting slightly. Yes, the old tingle was in her head, the feeling that somewhere and somewhen, they had met before. If he was a couple of feet shorter, and she imagined him a little scruffier, and erased ten years from that hard face…

"Oh my god."

"I think you were my big sister," he said, unwittingly confirming her flickering memories. "And you went totally bughouse."

Oh my god, she thought. This tetchy, tough vampire was my baby brother. "You were cuter then."

"I'm better-looking now," he flung back with unfailing arrogance. Cougar grinned then, and she saw the same tender charm, still in his face despite his changing lives. "So...big sis...want a hand beating up the scary, scary men?"

_Cougar Redfern_, Daybreak's file had read. _Lamia; currently aged seventeen. One of six children, full-blood and born on the Satiari enclave. First of the family given permission to leave the enclave for education in a human school. At the age of fourteen, Cougar went into exile after illegally changing a human 'friend' into a vampire, and murdering Carinna del Saccio in the process. He is believed also to have murdered his half-brother, Bane Malefici, whose body was never found_.

This wasn't the vicious murderer of the file, she knew. Alisha had often been used by Daybreak in their unorthodox court for her ability to sense minds. She'd felt the ashen tang of murderers, their sandpaper brutality: she'd been overwhelmed by the wash of madness and the boundless rage that thirsted after blood. None of it felt like him.

How familiar and earnest were those golden eyes; yes, it was vulnerability quivering in them. She didn't understand it, but gently, she answered, "Please."

His body seemed to relax; he'd been waiting for rejection. Who'd made him so volatile, who'd taken a mind that should have shone out like the midday sun and filled it with smoky shadows and dimness?

"Do you know anything about fighting?" he inquired, cracking his knuckles.

"I know self-defence, and I've got a yellow belt in aikido," she informed him. "And I've done a little bit of judo with Daybreak."

Unflatteringly, he winced. "Wrong question. I meant: do you know how to kick the shit out of people? These guys outnumber us and outweigh us, and the odds are good that they know all that fancy stuff too. Our best bet is the element of surprise and dirty fighting."

"I once kneed a vampire and he cried for an hour," Alisha offered. He'd been foolish enough to comment on a bad hair day, and had consequently had a bad groin day.

Cougar brightened. "That's more like it. Look, I've got into a few scraps with people before, and I've nearly always come out of them better. So let me handle any sharp pointy things they might have, and you concentrate on looking sweet and helpless then proving you're not."

Alisha batted her eyelashes at him, and got a lopsided grin in return. "All right – little bro."

"Does this mean I can steal your CDs, big sis?" he asked with a good attempt at puppy dog eyes.

Funny, she was starting to like him. Under that horrible, barbed exterior was a half-decent sense of humour. "You can even steal my make-up."

He stuck out his tongue, and they waited.

* * *

By the time they got into the town, the fire was in full flow, and the house was a charcoal shell with flames licking out of the windows and doors. Horrified, Jepar could only watch as the two fire engines sprayed water on the inferno to no avail.

All his possessions – his clothes, his books, his CDs, his videos, his photos... oh god, his photos! He had albums, huge fat things crammed with pictures of the Circle over the last three years, his pride and joy. The collage on his wall that Toya and Lisa had given him, covered in cinema stubs, restaurant receipts, little sketches of them all Lisa must have spent ages doing, his favourite photos blown up and mounted...he wanted to cry.

"It's just things," consoled Chatoya, but with a tremor in her voice that said she knew it was a lie as much as he did.

"But they were my things," he said bleakly. "They were mine."

"Whoa..." Cern Akafren came over, leading a smoke-dusted Ria. He was half-holding her up, and her breath was rasping in her throat like a file on metal. "Good news, JJ. Lisa and Thom are sorting through what Ria managed to bring out. You're an idiot," he added to Ria, but there was a hint of respect in the comment.

Chatoya crouched down, her face soft with concern, peering into Ria's red-rimmed eyes. "Goddess...did you go in there?"

The half-witch nodded furiously. "Jepar," she croaked, voice desperately hoarse, "I'm sorry – I tried to get some more stuff, but the firemen wouldn't let me go back in."

He stared at her, disbelieving. "You really did that?"

"I figured...your photos..." She gave a little shrug. "Well, you did say they were the first thing you'd grab if your house was on fire."

"That's an incredibly extravagant excuse for getting manhandled by those burly fireman," Cern told her, supporting her weight. Despite his flippancy, he held her carefully, and his eyes were concerned. "We all know that was the real reason."

"You got me," Ria rasped. She seemed a paper doll, if a singed one, willowy and frail, but again, Jepar was reminded that there was a strength to her that was concealed by her timidity.

They always underestimated Ria, didn't they? It was easy to do: as Cougar's other half, she was bound to be cast into the background by his dark, exotic good looks and diabolical temper. She didn't have the power of Chatoya, the quirks of Cern, the vitality of Lisa...she ghosted around the edges of their lives, still vulnerable, still afraid of being alienated again. And yet...

And yet her strongest quality rose to the surface once again: her deep, abiding sweetness. She'd walked into a burning building on the vague recollection of an offhand remark he'd once made.

"Thank you," he said softly. He didn't know what else to say – what was there that could express the momentous meaning of so small an act? All his memories were pressed onto those photographs, frozen colours that moved in his mind when he looked at them.

She opened her mouth and Cern tapped her on the nose. "Be silent, Kermit," he ordered wearily. "Unless you want a career singing the blues, save your voice."

"You've done a lot of damage," put in Chatoya, fingers light on Ria's throat. "I can't heal this in one go. It's going to take a couple of weeks."

"What a damn mess," Ruby said as she approached, barely glancing at Ria. Disdain curled her mouth. "The back half's gutted. It'll bankrupt you."

Not me, Jepar thought, but the trustees who controlled his finances wouldn't be pleased.

"Thanks for lifting the mood," Cern said brightly. "I'm sure Jepar appreciates your optimism and steadfast enthusiasm. Maybe you can sing a dirge and scatter some petals while the rest of us clean up."

Ruby ignored the witch, as she was wont to do and turned a hard stare on him. Jepar wanted to quail beneath it but forced a smile instead. "You can stay at mine while it's being fixed."

He hoped his horror didn't show on his face. "It's okay...Cern and Thom have already offered. I'd quite like having nights in with the boys again. But you could always ask Cougar," he added with a hint of mischief. Cougar would happily pluck out his own eyeballs before he went near Ruby.

She shuddered. "I'll pass." She wandered off again, probably to stare at the remnants of his home.

"So..." Cern said dryly. "Want to stay with me and Thom?"

"Please," he said with heartfelt relief. "Thom still sleepwalk?"

Cern sighed. "He's progressed to sleepmoonwalking now."

"Seriously? Michael Jackson has a lot to answer for."

"Well..." The witch gave them a devilish little smile, his purple eyes bright. "Personally, I blame the boogie."

He groaned, glad for the distraction. Somehow the silly jokes made it easier to bear; reminded him that his friends were once again there to catch him when it seemed everything was falling apart.

Chatoya was staring at the smoking shell of the house. "Why did he do it?" she asked, her voice vague. "Why your house, Jepar?"

"I wasn't exactly polite to him, was I?" he answered grimly. "And he wanted us out of the way."

"But why?" She shook her head. "This...this feels wrong. What does this David person want with her?"

"He said something about betrayal," offered Cern, sounding only half-interested. "Honestly, does it matter? I'm not planning on having anything to do with her."

Sometimes Jepar forgot how painfully practical his friends were. There was another Daybreaker we were friends with once, he wanted to say. We were cruel to him too, but when things were desperate, he put his life on the line to help us. He nearly died for it.

I don't want to make that mistake twice.

He was beaten to it; Chatoya gave Cern a stern glare. "We haven't heard her side of it yet. Matt lied to us about working for Daybreak too, but he had reason. Maybe she does too. And as for taking David's word...so far, he's attacked her in school-"

"He did?" Cern blinked. "You didn't tell us that."

"We were getting round to it," she said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "And he's just sent assassins after her."

"There's more to it than that," Cern said thoughtfully. Some of the ire had faded from his face, replaced by concentration. "Didn't you hear what he said when Cougar threatened her?"

"'You lay one hand on her and I'll kill you'," quoted Jepar. Cern had seen to the heart of it; there was more to this situation than an old vendetta. Something concealed. "You're right, that is weird. Why does he care who hurts her?"

Guilt scratched at him. We should have stayed, he thought. Ria had already rung the fire brigade, what could we have done? If that had been one of us...we wouldn't have left them. God, we left her to face assassins on her own.

His confusion and shame must have shown in his expression, because Chatoya laid a hand on his arm and said gently, "Cougar stayed. We all know he won't pass up a fight."

Somehow, that didn't make him feel better; an inexplicable part of him felt that he had failed in a duty he hadn't known he'd had, and however he tried to repress it, the guilt came flooding back like a monsoon tide.

I should have protected her.

* * *

The three men came scrambling up the last part of the hill, sending pebbles clattering down the slopes behind them. They were dressed casually, and nothing about them said they made their living from the pain of others.

Cougar cracked his knuckles, and she felt the tempo of his mind surge, as if someone had fed gasoline to a flame. She was surprised to see a faint, malicious smile. "They're about to have such a bad day," he announced. "Now...just remember. Look helpless."

She glanced at him, tall and relaxed. He really was enjoying this. "Is that what you're going to do?"

"Hell, no!" He raised his eyebrows. "Look at me, babe. I am, let's face it, a magnificent specimen in the prime of life. Helpless isn't even an option."

Alisha sincerely hoped he was as fearsome as he seemed to think he was.

"This isn't any of your business, vampire," called one of the men. "Keep out of it, and no one has to get hurt."

"Not even her?" Cougar said, jerking a thumb in her direction.

The man's smile was quick and curt. "Except her. But she's food, and last time I checked, you leeches don't tend to strike up a conversation with your hors d'oeuvres."

"Well, this is a bit different," Cougar explained, his voice just as pleasant as the man's. "She's my sister."

The men were coming closer, flanking them. Fear spiralled up through her stomach, cold and flighty, and despite herself, she edged closer to Cougar.

Their spokesman laughed. "Now I've heard it all. A vampire who thinks he's related to vermin. Hear that, lads? A batty vampire!"

"You know, I was going to let you live. But there's no excuse for that joke."

The next few moments happened so fast she could hardly keep track of them; Cougar sprang into movement, a blur, and at the same time, she felt power explode across the air, his aura bursting like a plethora of fireworks, full of rage and a savage joy.

The leader was suddenly toppling back down the hill, mouth agape.

One of them grabbed her, clapping a meaty hand across her mouth, his other arm a hard band across her stomach. She bit him hard, and rammed her foot down on his instep.

He let go – and then he was hurled back by an exceedingly angry vampire. Her eyes watered from the sheer energy trembling around them, a riot of quivering colours that clouded their bodies. The other assassin was on the ground, groaning softly; blood trickled from his mouth, more pooling around his thigh, where a silver knife was embedded.

Her attacker had slipped into wolf form, a snarling mass that Cougar grappled with. There was nothing she could do to help, and she only stayed back, keeping a careful eye on proceedings. The dull thud of fur on flesh was interspersed with snapping sounds, and grunts from both of them which made her wince, very glad she had Cougar here.

David would have had me at his mercy, she thought, and the idea weighed like lead on her, leaking slow poison. But he was overconfident, and I was incredibly lucky.

The wolf sailed through the air – oh god, it was attacking her, all her calm had scattered, replaced by sudden, gripping terror-

It smashed into the ground a few feet away, sloughing along the rocky surface on its side before it came to rest, sending up a spray of pebbles. Its eyes were blank and staring, nothing more than a low whine escaping it.

"Told you they were amateurs."

Cougar was dusting off his hands, looking exceedingly smug.

She stared at the wolf's prostrate form, all her breath stolen. "They could have killed me," she said faintly, and then she had to sit down before she fell.

Cougar stood over the only conscious one, who had his hands clamped around the blade in his leg. "I think now is the time for a big career rethink," he advised the man, who looked sick with fear. "Are you any good at telling tales?"

The man nodded his head with what sounded like a petrified squeak.

"Good." Cougar's smile was wide and lazy, full of nasty promise. She was glad it wasn't directed at her. "Better make it interesting. Want to tell me just what you were going to do with Alisha?"

The man cleared his throat. "He just said to rough her up a bit. He wanted her frightened, he said, nothing permanent. We were supposed to make it clear that we'd go after the shapeshifter next – the blond one, that guy hates him for some reason."

"And do you know why?" The question was silky, caressing, but the man shuddered as if he'd been struck.

"No, no, I swear it! He said it was personal, that we only needed to know what to do. He said he didn't need to explain to the hired help. Look, I needed the money, all right, I got two kids to bring up, and they laid me off a month ago-"

The vampire sliced one hand across the air, and the man fell silent, as if his words really had been chopped off.

"All right. I believe you. You can keep your life, but I'll have my knife back." Cougar leaned down and yanked it out. The man gasped; a fresh wash of blood spilled across his hands, and the vampire's eyes became a bright, shining gold. For a moment, Alisha thought he might sink his fangs into the man, but Cougar stepped back, the hunger in his expression terrible but controlled.

"How am I supposed to get down?" the man called, a desperate keen.

Cougar glanced at the figure of the wolf, slumped on the ground. "Better hope he wakes up, hadn't you?"

The face he turned to her was far gentler, though his eyes never lost their inhuman sheen. Without a word, he offered her a hand up, and she clung to him, still feeling jarred and queasy.

"You can't leave me!" the man shouted.

Cougar whipped around, and his voice cracked across the air like a rifle. "Are you a complete moron? I'm a Redfern, babe, and you just attacked a member of my family. I can do whatever I want."

As they left, his arm steady support, she could only form one coherent thought: thank god he's on my side.

"Thank you," she said through numb lips. "I owe you."

He gave her a bitter grin. "Yeah? You can pay me back over lunch."

"How?"

"I want your advice. Soulmate stuff."

She gave a rickety laugh. What supreme irony. "I don't think I'm the kind of person who can tell you what to do."

"Yep. That's why I want you to tell me what not to do." Razors underlined his voice, waiting to slice at her. "I can't lose her."

I thought the same once. But I learned, eventually. I survived; again and again and again, and if seeing him and being unable to have him is just dying a death every time he leaves my sight, then I'll survive that too. Perhaps that's the true strength of a soulmate bond – such love that it can burn strong despite the devastation and pettiness and greed of the heart, blaze side by side with pain and grief...and still be worth each lonely second.

But I don't think that's what you want to hear.

"I'll try," she answered gently. "But I can't promise anything."

Promises are for people who know how to keep them.

* * *

In the sky above, he was unnoticed; a speck that on closer examination proved to be a kestrel hovering on the air currents. When he was sure they were gone, David y Pelathas dropped down to the ground with a speed fuelled by anger.

So Talisa was not entirely friendless. That was a surprise and an unpleasant one. Alone she would have been defeated and shown the price of defiance: now she had allies, and this victory would only make her more obstinate. Even eight hundred years ago he had courted her assiduously before she yielded; but the sweetness of the reward had been worth the toil of the pursuit.

He needed her isolated, and biddable. He had waited eight hundred years for her – he had surrendered his lands, his title, his very humanity for hope of her.

He would not give up now. He always got what he wanted, though she had been the first thing he had to fight so hard for.

And even when he thought her won, still she wavered. Towards the end, he had been sure Talisa was regretting their affair. More than once he had felt a distance in her embraces, a reluctance that had become more apparent as time passed.

With that in mind, he had decided to tip the balance a little. So it was that he came to a dusty road on a bright morning, and to Ieran.

Talisa's betrothed had been indentured to David's family as long as Talisa, but where she worked within the grounds, as fixed a point of beauty as the gardens she sometimes tended, Ieran had worked as a messenger. Even as a human he had an uncommon turn of speed, and a reputation for unquestioning deference.

By then, Talisa had vacillated between them for nearly two years, and showed less sign than ever of leaving her soulmate. His pride would not let David release her; his love made him yet more possessive.

He did not have to wait long before Ieran passed by, carrying a message that David had arranged to have sent, knowing it would bring him to this place and this moment.

A swift pull on the reins brought him into the boy's path.

Ieran stopped at once, though his face registered confusion at the sight of David. "My lord?" he said, something like suspicion in his eyes. "Is there some change to the message I was given?"

David circled the horse around him. "Ieran, is it? Talisa's betrothed?"

"Yes." His face was immobile, his blank expression practiced.

"A lovely maid. But not, perhaps, as well treated as she should be."

Something dangerous flared in his eyes but it didn't move into his tone. "It sounds like you're implying I neglect her, my lord."

David chuckled. "For one who claims to be in love with her, you abandon her rather regularly."

Ieran glared, his eyes hard as emeralds. "What business is it of yours? My lord." The title was plainly grudging and David felt a stab of vicious satisfaction at the thought his next words would bring.

"You may neglect her," he said loftily, looking at the boy who stood there, his face guarded and wary. "I do not."

Ieran inhaled sharply. David couldn't hide the sly smile that crawled across his features.

"You lie," Ieran hissed, shaking his head so the blond hair caught bright in the sun. "Talisa would never-"

"Never is a large assumption to make." David's words were snapped out. "Especially considering that she already has for the past two years."

Under the blazing sun, the boy was pallid as a ghost. "Two years?" he said, but doubt had invaded his face. "You think my betrothed could lie to me for two years and I wouldn't know?"

David merely laughed. "Your soulmate is a witch. I'm sure she knows the right spells. And if she doesn't, someone else in the Nightworld will."

Finally he saw belief register in Ieran's eyes. "She told you about the Nightworld," he said in a strange, flat voice.

David pulled the horse round, and added as a parting shot, "Ask yourself this – what reason would I have to lie? And if Talisa loves you so much, then why does she spend every waking hour she can with me?"

It was often said in gossip that Ieran let his mind overrule his heart and that his emotions were second to his logic and intelligence. But his heart had ruled here and been overthrown by the bitter truth.

It was betrayal that David saw in his face, and it felt like victory.

He cast no glance back as he left, but if he had, he would have been gleeful to see Ieran sink to the ground with his head in his hands. There was no denial, because his worst suspicions had been confirmed at last, and he was lost.

"Oh God," he said so softly the words were not touched even by the breeze. "Oh God, it's true."

* * *

They filled the walk into town with small talk about things that neither of them particularly cared about; TV and movies, the weather, the news, all safe topics which ignited nothing beyond a brief and tepid debate.

She was surprised when they stopped at a teashop calling itself The Blood Rose Café. Its slightly quaint, cosy atmosphere didn't seem like somewhere that would attract Cougar Redfern.

Nonetheless, the boy behind the counter nodded to him with the familiarity of long acquaintance and they were soon settled at a corner table with coffee and an array of pastries.

"This doesn't seem like your kind of place," she ventured.

An ironic little smile played about his mouth. "Didn't used to be. But I come here to visit a friend."

"The waiter?"

He looked slightly disgusted. "Please. Rob Slivan may have all the girls drooling in their dinner, but I'm a Redfern and I have better taste. No...I come here for her."

It took her a moment to realise he was gesturing to the picture on the wall beside them. The girl in it was no beauty – there was something a little goofy about her starstruck pose and the tongue stuck out at the camera, and her red hair was lurid as poppies, but there was a softness in Cougar as he looked at her.

Then she saw the plaque beneath the picture. For Sonj, it said. A rose without thorns.

"Who was she?"

"A friend. She died." Those four words in their brevity could have been dozens more. I loved her, he might have said. I miss her. This is a better way to remember her than flowers on a grave. It still hurts.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't say you understand," he remarked. "But you're one of the few people who could. You lost JJ, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you're scared of him?"

She opened her mouth to reply that she wasn't frightened, it wasn't like that, but... "Yes. I'm terrified I'll lose him again. I can't go through that."

He nodded. "Yeah. Me too. That's why I want your help."

"You need to understand something first." She spoke quickly, trying to make it easier on herself. "I did a terrible thing to him in that other life. I hurt him badly. You need to think about that before you decide if you want my advice."

Alisha saw an echo of that coldness that had been there on the mountain. She couldn't blame him. "Do you regret it?"

"Every day," she answered. She roused a bitter smile. "Every life. It was always the same until this life, you see. I was born not knowing, waiting, I guess. And every time on my sixteenth birthday, I would remember what I did. It drove me mad. How could it not, learning everything you thought you were was a lie? I did some...pretty drastic things."

"Define drastic." His tone made no judgement, but nor did it offer any quarter.

"Suicide, mostly." She didn't like to think about it; those memories came back too, lingering like a threat of might be. It was hard to speak of them dispassionately, but she didn't want to bring emotion into this. It would have felt like a cheap gamble for his sympathy. "Hanged myself a few times. Cut my wrists. Drowned – very Ophelia, very disgusting. Set myself alight. Slight overkill, that one. Other times I just left myself in harm's way, you know? I had a couple of lives where I lived longer – the madwoman on the street corner, asking everyone if they'd seen him, part of me always understanding just what I had become but unable to change it."

"You don't look mad now," he offered.

"This life was different. I was born knowing – it was easier to bear. I've always known what I did and what I am."

His gaze was cool. "And what did you do to Jepar?"

"Ieran," she corrected automatically. "He was very different back then. Much more serious. He never liked anyone to know what he felt, and he almost never spoke about it. You know, I think I could count on my fingers the number of times he told me he loved me. We were engaged to be married. He travelled a lot and I started this...affair."

"With your creepy dragon friend?"

"With David," she agreed. "It went on for years but Ieran found out eventually. It devastated him. He confronted me – and he walked off a cliff. I might as well have pushed him."

"That doesn't sound like Jepar," he remarked. "He's much more likely deal with a broken heart by moping in his room and listening to Toni Braxton. At least that was what happened when he and Toya went their separate ways. That only lasted three days, thank god. There's only so many times you can hear him wailing along to 'Unbreak My Heart' before murder seems like the merciful option."

He was being...flippant.

"Don't you understand what I did?"

He stared at her. "Babe, you made a mistake. It was a crappy thing to do, but I believe you when you say you regret it. Not only that, I'd say eight hundred years of nasty ends and raving lunacy is a pretty fair price to have paid."

Such sweeping clemency stunned her. It didn't seem right. "But..."

"And I'll be honest with you," Cougar continued, and his gaze was steady, gentler than she had imagined he knew how to be, "your Ieran doesn't sound much like the guy I know. JJ's repulsively happy and he has been since I met him. Seriously, we have faced down cults, crazy people, Nightworld overlords and assassins, and nothing gets him down for longer then oh, ten minutes. Personally," he added, "it makes me want to kick him, but everyone else seems to find it uplifting."

"And I can't destroy that," she said quietly.

"If you think knowing something like that would destroy Jepar, you're doing him a massive injustice." The vampire snorted. "How many times have you found him since he took the, uh, big drop?"

"This is the first time."

He boggled. "Let me get this straight. This is the first time you've run into your soulmate in eight hundred years and you're just going to sit here and do nothing?"

"Yes." She didn't want to put it into words; it lodged in her throat. It was enough, surely to see him, to watch him live out his life in the happiness he hadn't had – couldn't have – with her. Crueller by far to show him the past he didn't recall and rip out his life from beneath his feet. "David wants him dead."

"Tell him to take a ticket and get in line. You think Jepar needs you to protect him?" He gave her a grim, dazzling smile. "He's got friends, babe. And he's not exactly helpless. If it comes to the worst, his rendition of Unbreak My Heart is as agonising as a knife to the ribs."

"Is this all a joke to you?" she snapped.

His face became guarded, closing down like a fortress. "You're missing my point. He doesn't need your help, and I think you know that. Like I said earlier, you're afraid."

"You're right," she said shortly. Part of her still struggled to understand how little what she had done mattered to him. It had defined her so long that she found it almost impossible to understand that it was mere detail to someone like Cougar. "But don't you understand? I can't take the risk that if I show him what I did, he'll hate me."

He opened his mouth – and then seeing something in her face, changed whatever he'd been about to say. "Let's leave it, okay? Get to know Jepar. Deal with creepy dude. Then let's talk about it again."

Nothing would change, but relieved, she agreed. "How about we talk about you instead?"

He grimaced. "Yeah."

The silence lingered so long she began to wonder if he'd lost the power of speech. Alisha raised her eyebrows pointedly.

"It's difficult, okay," he muttered. "Me and Ria…"

He took a deep breath, and then another.

"We didn't meet under the best circumstances. Her sister was trying to off Jepar, and she knew. Jepar thought she was the sweetest thing since butter icing – all of them did and no one but me suspected anything. They all thought I was being unreasonable."

He rolled his eyes as if to suggest he was a very paragon of reasonableness.

"Then it turned out she was my soulmate. Soon after, it all kicked off – her sister tried to kill JJ, Ria tried to stop her and...and a lot of shit happened. It all ended happily, and I...I realised I liked her." His smile was bittersweet. "And now I love her and I'm screwing it all up and I don't know how to stop."

"How are you screwing it up?" she said.

"She wanted Prince Charming. She got me."

"Ah. The glass slippers are chafing?"

"Something like that," he said glumly. "She believes that love should cure everything. That because we're soulmates – because she _can_ see inside my mind and dig out all my secrets, she should. And I can't...the things I've done..."

He spread his hands, and his eyes were full of absolute misery.

"I'm terrified," he said in a voice so quiet she barely heard him. "And she thinks it means I don't love her."

His words resonated in her bones. God, she knew how that felt, to know that your terrible deeds were waiting to be discovered like a body in a shallow grave.

"I need her not to know," he said. "I want to be the person she loves."

"Are they so terrible?" she asked gently.

The strain was evident in his face, as if he held back a great wash of emotion. "Yeah. I wasn't always the saint you see before you."

She smiled at his feeble joke. "I know that. But do you think your secrets are any worse than mine?"

"Maybe not to you. You've seen a lot. But to Ria..." He struggled for words and she waited, patient as he had been with her. "Her sister damaged her. And some of what I've done – it's not so far from Bliss's nastier works. If I'd wanted I could've been like Bliss. I chose not to, but it was that close, Alisha. Some days it was so damn close I still don't know how I wound up here."

"But you did end up here," she said. "You made the right choice. And now you've got another choice."

"What?"

"One, you can tell her what you've just told me and hope she trusts you. Two, you can let her in to see all those secrets and hope she still loves you. Three..."

"Three?"

"You can lose her, and hope you forgive yourself." She shrugged. "You'll survive. It'll suck, but you'll survive."

His eyes were steadfast. "I don't want to just survive. I want that stupid fairytale, or the closest thing."

"Then I recommend door number one," she said solemnly.

"I'll try." Some of the tension dissipated from his face and shoulders. "You give some good advice, sis."

She reached over and ruffled his hair, ignoring his indignant squawk. "That's why you're paying, little bro."

And just for a while, as they bantered over coffee and cake, she could relax and forget; she had family again. She was no longer alone. Someone was there beside her to help fight her battles.

It had been so long, she'd almost forgotten what it felt like: wonderful.

_I loved you with a fire red  
Now it's turning blue, and you say  
'Sorry' like the angel heaven let me think was you  
But I'm afraid...  
It's too late to apologize  
It's too late_

* * *

Thank you for reading! Comments would be loved.


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